Where art thou Benvolio?
by BanannaSlapz517
Summary: When your two best friends since always die, how are you suppose to continue without them? Benvolio wasn't expecting the answer to be travel a few centuries into the future, halfway across the globe, and start over. Now, why is everything so framiliar...?
1. Visiting Verona

This is my first fanfiction, so I'm a little anxious. This will definetely get better as it goes on. Please read and review!

I do not own Romeo and Juliet.

* * *

"Romeo," he muttered softly. "Why did thou not tell me?" His only reply was the soft wind, which faintly blew the brown curls off of his forehead. "I could have helped, cousin. Thou could have trusted me."

His cousin was silent, silent like the grave, for he was dead, buried. It had been a week since the death of his cousin and his aunt, and he supposed his cousin-in-law Juliet. A week and a day for his other new relative by marriage, Tybalt, and for his other best friend Mercutio. He had visited all of their final resting places, saving this one for last. He still could not figure out his feelings for Romeo. Bitter, maybe? A twisted feeling of the brotherly love they had once shared? They had always been like brothers, the closest of friends, and Mercutio made a threesome.

"And we weren't supposed to lie," he finally muttered. "The last secret you ever kept from me. Where there any more? How much did thou perjure thyself? Ay, Romeo? Have you no answer?"

A hand tapped his shoulder, and he whipped around. A very timid servant was gazing up at him. Balthasar, who had passed on to him after his former master's death. Benvolio wasn't sure whether he liked having Romeo's man, but he hadn't rejected him yet. "Sir," spoke Balthasar hesitantly, "Your uncle wanted you home by nine of the clock, sir, and it is dark and thou have been here for hours. Could we not return home for the night?"

Benvolio took a deep breath, swallowing down a surge of anger and a wildly beating heart. "Yes, that is a good idea." He closed his eyes, calming his mind once more. It was no use yelling at the dead.

"Sir, if I may-"

Benvolio opened his eyes again, raising his eyebrows at the servant. "What is it, man?"

"It's just, sir, thou art looking very pale tonight. Are you feeling well?"

I considered the questioned. The direct answer was to smile regretfully at him, for Balthasar had struck the truth. He did not feel well, for how could he when such tragedy had happened here? When his two best friends in the world were gone?

"I am fine, Balthasar," he finally answered. Physically, at least.

They left home, arriving at the Montague mansion as the moon was rising in the sky. His uncle, Lord Montague, had been waiting for him.

"Benvolio, nephew," he said. "How was thy passing of the afternoon?"

Benvolio did give a grim smile at this, for his uncle knew exactly what he had been doing. "As well as to be expected."

"Benvolio," his uncle croaked suddenly, with conviction. Benvolio's head snapped up, his eyes wide and alert. They had not ever really been close before, but now they were the only family they had left, so it didn't seem to mean much anyways. Lord Montague was reading his thoughts. "Thou art the closest relative I possess. You do realize that you art now the heir to the Montague family?"

Benvolio took this in with shock. No, he hadn't thought about it. Heir to the family, heir to the fortune, heir to the business… "I have never dreamed of this honor, uncle," he said, and he meant it. He had never wanted to in charge of things. That was what Romeo was for. Romeo was a leader. Not him.

His uncle relaxed. "I have confidence in you, Benvolio. You have a good soul. Your father's spirit."

Benvolio stiffened. "My father?"

"He was a great man," Lord Montague continued. Benvolio didn't know much about his father. He had died when Benvolio was very young, in a war. His mother and raised him until he was eight, when she died of fever, and after that he didn't need much raising. His father and Romeo's father had been brothers, he knew that.

"A great man indeed. He was few in his words, like you, Benvolio, but a more dependable man you would never see. He did save Verona from the gaping jaws of crisis. No, you will never see another man like him, except perhaps in yourself, son."

"Thank you, uncle," Benvolio whispered. He truly did not know what to feel. He was overwhelmed by emotion. He was only sixteen! He turned stiffly and walked back up into his room, getting straight into bed for the night, even though he did not rest for hours to come. When he did fall into an uneasy sleep, it was light, and he was easily awakened the next day by the morning sun.

A week and a day, Romeo, he thought. Mercutio, and week and two.

He pulled back to covers of his bed and dressed hastily. There was one last character he had yet to visit. But unlike the others, this one was not dead.

* * *

Benvolio did not tell anyone he was leaving the house. He just left in the early hours, with the sun just cresting over the horizon. The warm summer air was crisp, even as he got out of the main city and into the land owned by the church. It was nice, especially because there wasn't complete silence. There was the air and the singing birds and the crickets all there to support him. He wandered to the last cell at the end of the church building, and knocked on the door.

"Friar Lawrence?" he called. There was no reply. He waited a few minutes, knocked again, and waited some more. Still, nobody answered. Benvolio strained his ears. Was there noise inside? After some hesitation, he pushed open the door.

The only lighting from the inside was what came through the windows. The place was empty, devoid of everything except in one corner, where liquids and glass vials were kept. There was a short man there, hastily sorting and rummaging through everything. Two trucks were stacked behind him.

"Friar Lawrence?" Benvolio repeated. The man looked up, his mouth forming an O when he saw his visitor. Color draining from his face, he scrambled backwards, knocking over his chests. He started mumbling under his breath, crossing himself.

Shivers ran up Benvolio's back as he stepped towards the church man. "Friar! I just seek to talk!" he came up towards the table with all of the instruments on it, standing over the friar. He had always been tall for his age. "Tell me, sir, I need to know of my cousin-"

"Back, demon!" The friar yelled, pushing Benvolio away. Surprised, he stumbled back, landing on the table of vials and shattering quite a few of them. He gasped as he felt several places on his arm get pierced.

Benvolio rolled off the table, clutching his injured right arm. The friar opened his eyes, and for the first time, really looked at his guest.

"Benvolio Montague?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes," Benvolio hissed through his teeth. "I wanted to talk to you about my cousin Romeo. I wanted to see if I could find some peace from you." He gritted his teeth and slowly raised his arm into his field of vision. It was not pretty. At least seven pieces of glass were embedded in his skin, and several of the tubes he had shattered had contained potions. Even as he watched, something bright blue trickled its way down his skin to mingle with his blood, turning it a dark purple color, which then slid off his fingertips.

Suddenly Benvolio was feeling very sick indeed. He stumbled towards the door, barely noticing the friar's frantic monologue behind him. "Sir! Thou have broken the-the-and I was just leaving. I cannot handle Verona anymore. Why did thou come here? I thought thou were Romeo's ghost! You share a resemblance, if only thy hair was as strait…"

Benvolio shouldered open the door and started running out of there, down into town. The words barely registered into his mind. They were irrelevant, anyways. He was taller, not as muscled as Romeo, and his eyes were brown, not green. Sometime while he was gone, dawn had broken in the city. Servants were walking about the streets, but they all stopped to stare at him as he sprinted past. The purple mess seemed to be multiplying. It was running down his entire body, even as he struggled towards the safety of the Montague household.

Abram, the oldest servant who had been working there since Benvolio was small, was outside the mansion. His eyes widened in shock as he recognized Benvolio. "Sir! What…what happened?"

"There was an accident," Benvolio gasped. "At the church. Please, if you could help me lay down…"

Abram dropped his things and helped Benvolio up the house. Lord Montague and Balthasar must have heard the commotion, for they were waiting at the door.

"Ay me!" his uncle gasped. "Your arm, nephew." Balthasar looked on helplessly.

"Get me a surgeon," Benvolio ordered him, and he ran to do so. "There was an accident. The friar's things, I just wanted to talk, about what happened, I thought-" he started trying to explain.

"Peace, Benvolio," his uncle ordered, helping him into his room. Benvolio collapsed on the bed. "Oh, what is this?"

"The friar's-" Benvolio gasped. "-potions. He had potions, in vials, and I snapped them…"

His uncle gasped, and all of the sudden, the worst thought struck Benvolio too: what if one was a poison? What if he was dying?

As soon as the thought came, his vision started to darken. The inevitable was coming. Death. He just couldn't last long without Romeo and Mercutio, couldn't he? He had always had them, as as soon as he didn't, he had proved himself a fool. Of course, he already was one. He had not helped his friends when they needed him most.

"Uncle," he sobbed, gasping for air. He was not sure whether the tears on his cheeks were of physical pain or his own selfish sorrow.

"Don't worry, Benvolio," his uncle said, pushing the sweaty curls off of Benvolio's forehead. "The doctor will be there soon. You will be fine."

Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, and Benvolio closed them, so he didn't have to see the tunnel vision. "Uncle, I will be fine, won't I?"

He didn't hear the reply. There were footsteps at the door, and then there was nothing.


	2. Strange Sights

Author's Note: Again, the story does get better. Stick around. Here's where the interesting stuff starts to happen...

I do not own Shakespeare's plot, characters, or words in any way, shape or form.

* * *

"Attention passengers, we are arriving in New York City. Please fasten your seatbelts as we descend."

Benvolio woke with a start. His first thought was that he was having the strangest dream of his life. He was in a small compartment, sitting near the wall in a row of three seats. There were many rows of seats, and most of them were full of people, talking and fastening a black belt around their waist to the seats. A man in a blue uniform walked past to the front of the apartment. Benvolio looked at himself. His vest and leggings, and sturdy boots had turned into bright white shoes with large ties, loose blue bloomers of a leather-ish material, and a loose white shirt with sleeves that stopped before the elbow. His attachment belt was already securely attached.

"Did you have a nice nap, dear?" an old woman sitting in the seat next to him said. Dumbfound, he nodded. "That's good," she continued. "I do hope you have fun your first trip to America."

"Thank you, lady," he said, looking around. There wasn't too much leg room, but on the wall there was a small oval window. Benvolio looked out-and gasped.

"Yes, New York City, biggest city in the northeast," the woman said again. Below them, there was blue water, like the sea the few times Benvolio had visited there, but they were above it, miles and miles above, and he could not figure out why these people were so calm as the must be plunging to their death. Beyond the blue there was a collection of tall gray rectangles, like a child's building blocks.

"New York?" he repeated, the syllables strange in his mouth. "Those things...they are…"

"Huge buildings, aren't they?" the woman finished. "You never went to London, either, dearie? Is this your first trip to a big city? How exciting."

"Yes," replied Benvolio faintly, "indeed." Blocking some of the view of the ground was a…strange object. In front of him, in a pocket connected to the seat in front of his, was a fascinatingly real painting, with words too, on the front. Benvolio stared at it. The compartment, with windows, he must be in one of these things. The things sticking out of the sides…

"Air-plane," he sounded out. Before the old woman could talk to him again, the same, first voice from no where spoke.

"Another reminder, passengers, please have you seat belt buckled. We are cleared for descent. Thank you for riding American Airlines and welcome to New York City."

Benvolio stayed quiet from the rest of the ride, looked from the window to the painting and back. Wings. Airplane. They were flying. Flying!

Nobody else seemed at all perturbed by this, so Benvolio didn't give away any of his feelings either, except for maybe a gasp when the airplane landed. Like a monster, it bumped on the ground and made a loud whining noise and from the way the countryside sped past he was sure they were all going to crash and die inside this metal beast. He was proved wrong, however. The dream wouldn't let anything happen to him that way.

Finally the beast stopped moving. Everyone else in the seat stood up, and the nowhere voice made one last announcement, but he couldn't hear it over the people's chatter.

"Honey, if you could help me reach my bags overhead again?" The old woman asked him. Benvolio nodded, and she shooed him out into the aisle between rows of seats. He looked around. Other tall men and women were pulling cases out of to compartment that had been over their heads with him even realizing it. Benvolio reached down and pulled out a large dark-green one.

"That's yours, sweetie pie," the woman said. "Mine's the red."

Benvolio reached up to get the last package, marveling at the strange things he was being called. Should he tell the woman his name? Eventually he decided against it. She looked like a servant, and he was upper class, after all.

All of the people stood up and began to file out of the airplane. Benvolio followed, carrying the package behind him that the woman said was his. They all when out of the airplane and through a long tunnel. Benvolio's arms were beginning to ache from the height of his burden when he finally came out into a large open space.

His jaw dropped. This whole place was larger than a cathedral, and practically made of windows, so he could see airplanes all over, attached to tunnels where other people were coming out.

There were seats near the place of the tunnel, where many people were resting, including a family that caught his eye. There was a mother, father, and a bored looking teenage boy about his own age. The boy was holding a sign.

"Ben Mantahue?" he wondered out loud. The boy's head snapped up.

"Ben!" he cried, apparently recognizing Benvolio. "It's me, Jake. I guess my hair grew since that last picture I sent you, huh?" he smiled, gesturing to his straight brown hair that hung over his forehead. "You look like your picture, though. What do you think of America? Wow, being an exchange student must be loads of fun. I would go to England, too, I think. So you wouldn't have to deal with language boundaries and stuff. Hey, do you want me to carry your suitcase? Looks heavy."

"Ah, yes, please," Benvolio said, handing it off to the stranger. Student? They thought he was a student from England? He had never set foot outside of Italy in his life. He had barely been out of Verona.

"You do have an accent!" Jake spoke rapidly, and then he laughed, and tried to mimic it. "Ah, yes. Aaaahhhh, yesa, please."

"You _do_ have an accent!" Benvolio replied, and Jake laughed again.

"You know, Ben, I think we're going to have a wonderful time here." He said, and then whispered, "at least until school starts next week."

Benvolio laughed back. They had school here in dreamland, too.

His parents got up off of the seats and introduced themselves and Cindy and Will Lapet, and then started leading the boys away, saying something about "customs."

"So, Ben Mantahue, are you ready for a week of fun at our lake cottage?" Jake asked. "You did bring a swimsuit, right?"

"Ah, I think so. I can't remember,"

"That's okay," he said. Benvolio digested this. O, K. What did that stand for? "It looks like we'd be about the same size, anyways. You could borrow one of mine if you forgot."

Benvolio measured themselves against each other. "I'm taller."

Jake grinned. He smiled easily and often. "Yeah, but your arms and legs are sticks."

Benvolio beamed back. "Yes, Jake Lapet, I am ready for whatever fun you are capable of filling one week with."

Jake shot him a look. "You're from a very small town in England?"

"Ah…yes. Yes I am."

"Ok," he said again, thinking to himself. "Well, anyways, it's about a half hour's drive back to my house from here. Welcome to New York."


	3. New Found Friends

Read and reveiw! I know you're there! Thanks for bearing with me.

I do not own Shakespeare.

* * *

"So this is your second house,"

"Yeah," Jake replied. "We have a big one back in town, but this is just our little lake cottage. It has a dock, too, so we could go canoeing later if you want. You're not tired, are you?"

"No," answered Benvolio. "I slept on the plane."

"You two just be back in time for dinner," his mother warned. Typical mother. "It's two o'clock now."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lapet," Benvolio said, while his companion just rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Mom," Jake said, as the self moving carriage called a _car_ as he had learned, stopped in front of a brown house. Behind it was a small lake. "Is it ok if Matt comes over?"

"I think tomorrow might be better," she replied. "Give Ben some time to settle in."

"Well-" he started, when another teenage boy came out from behind the house wearing nothing but loose, very bright colored bloomers that came down to about his knees. "Hey, Jake!" he yelled to the car, running towards it. "You were supposed to be back a half-hour ago!"

"Traffic," Jake grumbled.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Lapet," the boy said. Jake's mother sighed, giving Jake a look. He shrugged.

"So, this is Ben the super knew who from across the blue?" asked the boy. Ben looked at Jake for translation.

"Hey, Ben, I want you to meet my best friend, Matt." Jake introduced. Matt gave a very bad bow, but it was the first bow he had seen in his dream, so Benvolio didn't comment on it.

"And how do you do," Matt finished, grinning at his own awful rhyme.

"Well enough, thank you," Benvolio said. He followed the family's example, opening the door to the car and stepping out.

"Can we go swimming, Mom?" Jake begged. "Please, please, come on, please?"

Benvolio could see her face relenting. "All right," she said, exchanging a look with her husband. The boys whooped and ran out of the car.

"Come on, Ben," they called. Jake grabbed his suitcases and pulled it towards the house. "We'll change and meet you there," he told Matt.

"Come on," he urged Benvolio, opening the front door. The place was larger than a servant's house, but definitely not up to par with the Montague mansion. He led him around the house, pointing out the kitchen, living room, sleeping chambers.

"This is your room," he said, pointing to one at the very end of the hall. Benvolio stepped inside. It wasn't personalized in any way. Just the bed, drawers, table, and the "ceiling fan."

"The guest chamber?" he asked, and Jake nodded. "Yeah." He set down the suitcases, as Benvolio now knew it was called. "Change into your swimsuit. I'll meet you by the door."

"And, um, Matt was already wearing his?"

"Yes," Jake said slowly, giving Benvolio a strange look. "That was his bathing suit."

"I got it," Benvolio answered quickly, not wanting to seem odd. He ushered Jake out of the room, and then got to the task of exploring his suitcases. He had picked up another one at the "airport" that had not been with him on the airplane.

He rummaged through all of the things. Most were clothes in the style worn here. He also found a bag of American money, strange green paper, some books, and small black device. Benvolio looked at it. There was a small screen, like the ones that had been at the airport. They projected paintings. This one said VERIZON with a little symbol below. Benvolio shrugged and put it down, before his eyes alighted on what he was looking for. It was the "swim suit," made out of that strange material, but his was all black.

He changed quickly, feeling odd to leave his chest exposed, but waved the feeling away. This was only a dream. He met Jake near the door of the house, who gave him a look, but then led him outside. It was Matt who spoke his thoughts.

"Whoa!" he cried. "Dude, you're ripped, but pale as the snow! You an athlete?" He pointed to the tan lines at Benvolio's wrists and neck. "What kind of uniform are you wearing?"

Benvolio shrugged. He didn't think he was particularly muscular, compared with Jake right next to him, but certainly more compared to Matt.

"Leave him alone," Jake said, rescuing Benvolio from having to answer. "You want to swim or what?"

Matt slapped his knee. "Now you're talking. Last one in's a rotten egg?"

"You're on," Jake replied and they both ran off the dock and jumped into the lake, creating huge splashes.

Benvolio hung back, just watching as the boys resurfaced and started splashing each other. Eventually they both noticing and pulled themselves, soaking wet, back onto the dock.

"What's wrong, Ben?" Jake called.

Benvolio shook his head, staring distrustfully at the lake. "The water…is it safe? Wouldn't a fountain be better?"

The two exchange glances. "You mean a pool? Why would anyone have a pool when the lake's right here?" Matt called incredulously.

"The water's fine, Ben." Jake called. "It's clean, and there's no man-eating fish, or anything. Trust me."

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "It's nice and warm, too. Look." He stood up and threw himself into the water again.

Jake approached Benvolio. "Don't worry, Ben. We won't let anything happen to you. It's ok."

Benvolio stared at Jake's face, his hair plastered to his head, dripping water onto his feet. No, why would they do anything to him? By some instinct, he could tell they would never deliberately hurt him. It was strange, but he suddenly trusted these two with his life. They were friends.

Benvolio shook his head. This was just a dream, anyways. Maybe there was no plague in the dream, too. That would be nice. "Ay, Jake?"

"What?" he asked blindly.

Benvolio pushed him backwards off the dock, and then jumped after him into the water. Jake came up, shouting incoherent words and gasping for air.

"Good one," said Matt next to him, laughing and offering Benvolio a high five. Jake roared indignantly and splashed them as much as he could, chasing them as they swam off.

The water was warm, and clean, and there were no man-eating monsters. They stayed out until Jake's mother called them in. It was time for dinner.


	4. An Outlandish Era

So our poor hero starts to realize the mess he's in...

Review, people, reveiw! please? I'll update 1 more time this week, but then I'm off to band camp, so enjoy while you can.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shakespeare

* * *

Matt was over often for the next week. Most days they just "goofed off" (which, as far as Benvolio could tell, had nothing to do with chasing gophers away from the gardens as he had originally thought) and went swimming in the lake. These swimsuits were really another one of dreamland's marvelous inventions.

There were many here. Self-moving transportation, like cars and planes, and fireless torches, moving pictures, ice boxes that never melted, the "Verizon phone…" the list went on and on. It was like paradise here.

Maybe it was that factor that kept Benvolio believing it was a dream, the most vivid and long he had ever had. He had to keep believing it was a dream, that he would wake up back home, that he wasn't…that he hadn't… Benvolio couldn't even think about. The thought of blood made him sick now.

One day, however, when Matt bounded up the door with his usual gusto, he had a large knapsack hanging off one shoulder. Jake took one look at it and groaned.

"No, not today man, come on,"

"School starts in two days!" Matt shouted at him, dropping the bag on the floor of the living room. It made an unusually loud thud. "I don't know about you, but I haven't even looked at any of it and if we don't start today I'm f-"

"Matt!" Jake hissed, jerking his head at Benvolio.

"What?" he cried. "I was gonna say failing junior year! Geez, Jake! Now, if your dirty mind is all done overreacting, it's time to study the art of suicide."

"What?" Benvolio cut in. He'd picked up more on the local dialect. "You study what?"

"He means a tragedy where the main characters kill themselves," Jake explained. "It's lots of fun to read. And we get to for English. Yay."

Matt's face went blank. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. That's what I meant. I was actually going to save English for later. Pull out geography! I want to learn about my man from across the sea!"

"Stop rhyming-eee" Jake screeched. Benvolio laughed. He had quickly followed the pattern of being back in a threesome. Of course, he would never be as close, or as comfortable as these two were, but it felt natural. Even if they did think he was Ben Mantahue from England.

Matt pulled out an obscenely large book from his bag and threw it on the floor. Jake sighed, pulled in towards him, and flipped to the back of the book, passing by a bunch of world maps.

"Wait," interrupted Benvolio, catching the page with his fingers. "Can I see this?"

Jake shrugged. "Sure," he said, passing him the textbook.

Benvolio studied the map. These two must be extremely advanced students! To be given maps so accurate! He brushed his hand over Europe. Verona wasn't even on the map.

"That's where you're from?" asked Matt, referring to where Benvolio's index finger had rested over England. He nodded.

"Cool," added Jake. "And now you're here." He pointed to a continent across the Atlantic Ocean.

"That's really far," Benvolio commented.

"Oh, nah." Matt waved his hand, as if dismissing the comment. "Only two thousand miles or something."

Benvolio felt his stomach plummet an inch or two in his stomach. Two thousand miles away from Verona? He shook his head to clear it. This was just a dream. "What's the number at the top?" he asked to distract himself. "Is that the number of copies made?"

Jake took a look. "No, that's just the year to book came out."

Benvolio spluttered. "The, the year?"

"Yeah, I know, it's so old," Matt said. "1999? Really? It's 2010. Get with the program, people."

Benvolio jumped up. "Bathroom," he told the other two, running towards a place where he could lock himself up and be alone.

Over two thousand miles and over 600 years… "I really wouldn't mind waking up now," Benvolio muttered. But nobody responded. Nobody ever would respond to his meaningless thoughts again, he reminded himself. The only one who ever had was Romeo, for Mercutio didn't pay attention to anyone else's comments, and he was dead. He had to get used to it.

I wonder how many days now, he thought errantly. I'm sorry, friends. I said I would keep track. I'm so sorry.

For the first time, he wondered what kind of dream this was.


	5. Unspeakable Actuality

Author note: Sorry to leave you hanging, guys, but I've got five weeks of band camp starting Saturday. PLEASE REVIEW! To tell me if I'm doing okay or not. Trying to make Benvolio sound old-fashioned is harder than I thought.

Disclaimer: I am disclaiming Shakespeare's plot, characters, and anything else belonging to him.

* * *

He returned as soon as he stopped feeling shaky. At least that explained all the new technology. New millennium. Made sense, right?

"Looked at that," Matt announced, slamming the book of maps shut. "We're good."

"Welcome back, Ben," Jake said, beckoning him to rejoin their circle on the ground. He had a second book in front of him, open to a page. "I don't know how that counts as studying, but at least we tried. Better than half the class, I bet. Come on. English! Best for last."

"I can't believe we have to read the entire play," Matt complained. "You want to Spark notes it?"

"No," Jake said firmly.

"Aw, come on. Ben, can you tell him-"

"We are reading the stupid play." Jake growled. "And if you got your stupid facts right, you would know it's only stupid act one."

"I think there's some rock out there that hasn't had its intelligence insulted yet."

"Shut up, Matt."

"What play?" Benvolio interrupted. Look, he was even stopping fights again. Just like old times.

"Romeo and Juliet," Matt muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Matt!" Jake caught him. "The title is _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet_. Get it right."

"Whatever," he muttered, but Benvolio snatched the second textbook out of his arms. Where his ears deceiving him? He read the first page.

_Two households, both alike in dignity,_

_In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,_

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,_

_Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean._

_From worth the fatal loins of these two foes_

_A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…_

Benvolio's breath came in shallow gasps. The words went on, saying how that only with the deaths of their children would the parent's feud, and that the play would go on…

"Who wrote this?" he snapped. He sensed Jake and Matt exchanging another look, but he didn't care.

"Um, Shakespeare?" Matt said, pointing to a name on the page. "Only the best known boring English playwright in the world? Dude, aren't you from England?"

"Ben, are you ok?" Jake asked.

"I know this one," Ben muttered. He tried to calm his out of control breathing, settle down the anger and grief that rose again inside him. "This tragedy was horrible. What right had he to record it?"

The other two took a second to misunderstand his words. "You did this in school already?" Jake asked. "It's worse than I thought? Oh, geez."

"This is brilliant!" Matt crowed. "Now you can help us! Yes!"

Benvolio looked at the page across. Characters. The Montagues. There was his name, printed right under Romeo's. The description: nephew of Lord Montague and friend of Romeo. Romeo: son of Lord Montague. Balthasar: servant of Romeo. They were so short. He scanned down the list. The Capulets. He ignored that section. Others. Prince Escalus: ruler of Verona. Mercutio: relative of the Prince and friend of Romeo. There was the friar, the count Paris, citizens of Verona…

He was stunned. His entire life, all his friends' and families' entire lives, in a nutshell like that? Who was the Shakespeare?

Matt reached over and flipped the page. "Scene one. Come on, Ben. Start explaining."

He scanned the page. Sampson, Gregory? Capulet men? "I do not remember this."

Matt shrugged. "Then it obviously wasn't important. Next-" he started to flip the page again.

"Hold! Ah, Wait!" Benvolio shouted, keeping the page. They used his version of language, and his eyes scanned it quickly. "These were stupid Capulet servants, walking around with swords."

"Capulet? What is that?" Jake questioned.

"That was the name of their family. Do you know who Juliet is? She was a Capulet." He explained, the words heavy in his mouth. He had never come across someone who hadn't known this before. If it was hard enough talking about who he hadn't really known, how would he get through the Montague story?

"Keep going," Jake said.

"Well, Sampson and Gregory, they're just making bad jokes about… um… never mind. Look, the two Montague servants come in. They are actually not wasting time, Abram and…Balthasar."

"Where the Montague's Romeo's family?" Jake asked. Benvolio nodded. Balthasar hadn't talked much in this account, it was mostly Abram. That sounded truthful. Abram was older and wiser.

"Ok, so Sampson bit his thumb at them, and-"

"Bit his thumb?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Yes," said Benvolio, raising his eyebrows. "You know, when you want to insult a man, you bite your thumb at them?"

"Ummmmm….no. But continue."

His eyes scanned the words. He hadn't been there, but it sounded like what he had heard. The words were typical of the stupid Capulet servants. "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? I do bite my thumb, sir. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? What? That is illegal? No. Do you quarrel, sir? Abram obviously said no, and then…oh no, he insulted Lord Montague? That's low."

Jake laughed awkwardly. "You're on the Montague side, then?"

"Well, obviously." Benvolio answered.

"Why?" Jake asked. Benvolio couldn't just answer _Because I'm a Montague,_ now could he? He froze. He had always been the one who avoided fights, yet he had this hate of them in sown into his very mind from birth. Even now, he couldn't shake it off.

"Because they are bad people," Benvolio finally answered. "I'll prove it. Look." He pointed at the next lines. He doubted they were the exact words, but, there was his name again, in the book.

"There is…Benvolio." He forced the word out. After that, it got easier. "Romeo's cousin. He hates fighting, even more than the Capulets. He'd be much happier if the Capulet family just got banished, so all the feuding would stop. Look, he says to stop fighting. He's a Montague. Sensible."

"And then Tybalt comes in. He's Juliet's cousin."

"That's nice of Shakespeare," Jake mused. "Give them both cousins. Okay. I bet Benvolio and Tybalt were evenly matched."

Benvolio bit his tongue to keep from blurting out that Shakespeare didn't do anything, that was just how it was. He looked at Tybalt's next line, and his blood ran cold.

_Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee._

How had Shakespeare known? He had never told anyone what had happened! He had never heard of man, never given permission to use his name! How had he known the exact words?

"So Benvolio could have stopped the fight, but Tybalt started it again," Benvolio finished. "Stupid."

Matt looked from Jake, to Ben, and back again. "Wow. Someone's picking up someone's attitude."

Benvolio flushed, but Jake ignored him. He was still thinking. "So, Ben, is the whole play like that? Was it Juliet's family's fault?"

He answered slowly. "No…not quite. I much prefer the Montagues, but if they did not partake in the silly feud, than there wouldn't have been one. It takes two to fight."

His thoughts kept going. Two to fight…two to love…you wouldn't think it took two to die, but Tybalt and Mercutio obviously proved that…two Montagues left to continue…and two Capulets, now that he though about it…

"Okay, so we read Act 1…"

"Scene one," Jake corrected his best friend.

"Not even," said Benvolio. "You haven't even met Romeo or Juliet yet. Look." He pointed to the conversation between him, his aunt, and his uncle. He did remember this, and thankfully, it was not the exact words. "Romeo's immediate family. His parents and m- his cousin. They're talking about him. He spent his mornings wandering around Verona, depressed, but whenever Benvolio tries to talk to him, he hides. Romeo's parents ask Benvolio to try really hard to find out what's bothering him, so he says yes, and then Romeo walks down the street…


	6. Nostalgic Nightfall

Hey guys! I'm leaving for band camp tomorrow! *does little excited dance* I'll make sure to get you a really good chapter when I get back. Don't worry. Thank you to my wonderful first reviewer. The rest of you...you know what to do...

Disclaimer: I do not own _Romeo and Juliet. _

* * *

Benvolio wasn't sure if everything in Shakespeare's script was exactly truthful, but it definitely was enough to scare him. He stayed on the sand while Jake and Matt went out to swim that afternoon, devouring the rest of the play. He himself was not a main character. He couldn't even remember if he had any lines after the scene containing Mercutio's death. It didn't matter, and truthfully, as he hadn't seen Romeo or Juliet after that day until they were dead.

I should have looked for him, Benvolio thought. I shouldn't have left him on his own to deal with the banishment. I was dealing with Mercutio's death, but then again, he was too, and worse. He…

His grief suddenly turned to anger in this throat, and he threw the book away from him. Stupid Romeo. He shouldn't have killed Tybalt. He shouldn't have married Juliet so soon. He shouldn't have kept it a secret!

There were suddenly two dripping bodies standing in front of him, blocking the sun. Benvolio looked up, startled that they both had approached without him hearing.

"Hey, Ben," Jake whispered. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," supported Matt, "what's the deal?"

Benvolio swallowed down a lump in his throat. "Nothing," he croaked. "Just homesick. And that story is _really_ awful."

After a second, Matt started to laugh, and Jake elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't laugh! He's not going home all semester!"

"But he made a joke!" Matt cried. "And what is the point of making jokes? Not your elbow, surely."

Benvolio snorted at the pun, Matt's face broke out with a grin of delight. "There! See! Ben gets it!"

"I never said I didn't get it," Jake replied hotly. "I only said that now isn't a good time to laugh."

"If the whole world went by your schedule, then apes would be the primary species of this planet."

"What's that supposed to-" but Matt was running off again, back into the water. Jake turned to Benvolio.

"It is alright," Benvolio told him. "In truth, he reminds my of another friend I just had. He'll talk more in a minute-"

"Than he could back in a month, yeah," Jake finished for him. "Do you want to swim with us now, Ben?"

He stood up and stretched. "Yes, thank you. I feel much better."

"Ben, wake up. Yougottagetouttabed. Now."

Benvolio just groaned in his sleep and rolled over.

"_Now_," the voice snarled, and roughly pulled the covers off his legs.

Benvolio squinted at the window. "The sun has not yet fully risen. Why do I?"

"School," grunted Jake. "The bus'll be here in an hour. Wanted to give you plenty of time."

Benvolio struggled to sit up. The day before Jake's family had said goodbye to the lake and the summer, taking Benvolio with them back to their normal house. It was much bigger, and had two floors. He was once again in the guest bedroom, which was near Jake's.

"Bus?" rasped Benvolio, unable to drag up a term from memory.

"Yeah," Jake said, hanging in the door of the bedroom, in just dark blue pajama bottoms. "I have a permit, but no car. Plus I don't think I'm legal to drive anybody, anyways. Breakfast in fifteen. Be there or I'm not feeding you."

Benvolio nodded. He grabbed a blue jean and a shirt, and then stumbled over the bathroom to wash off his face. Perhaps see if his hair needed a thorough brushing or not. It did tangle more easily than not, being curly as it was. Back in Verona he had always worn a cap to smush his hair down, and in this time he was quite fond of the "baseball hat." None of those in school, however, he was told. With a sigh, he ran the plastic (another wonderful invention) comb through his hair a few times, sighed, and decided it was good enough.

Fifteen minutes later, downstairs, Jake's mother was waiting for them. She had breakfast, eggs and toasts, cooking.

"Hello, Mrs. Lapet," Benvolio said politely. One thing he was still not used to was the lack of servants in this time, the lack of any obvious class system at all. There were subtleties, but not like he was used to. So she, the lady of a relatively well off house, as far as he could tell, cooked their meals.

Despite that, Benvolio liked Jake's mother. She didn't speak often, was quiet, like himself. But she was always there; ready to offer peace or comfort, like the ideal mother should. Like his mother had, before she had died.

She looked up from her cooking. "Oh, good morning, Ben. How are you?"

"Just a little tired," he admitted. Jake was not here yet, which was odd, because he was not one to break his own deadlines.

Mrs. Lapet smiled softly. "Jake isn't a morning person either," she said. "Are you excited for your first day of American public school?"

"You bet he is," said Jake, finally coming into the kitchen at last. "He's so ready. Super-duper ready. And I'll be there to help, so it'll all be good."

His mother pursed his lips. "Just don't get into any fights this year, dear."

Benvolio laughed. "Fights?" He asked Jake. "You?"

His mother gave Jake a look, who rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mom. I am so done with getting in trouble."

"What trouble?" Benvolio prompted.

"Ben, dear," Mrs. Lapet said, and sighed. "Well, let's just hope everyone behaves themselves this year. For your sake, at least."

Benvolio waited for her to turn back to the food, which was almost done cooking, before talking to Jake in a whisper. "What is she speaking of? Fighting in your school?"

"I'll explain later," he whispered back, a dark look on his face. For that reason, Benvolio didn't push him. Matt would probably say at school, anyways. He loved to talk.

They gathered backpacks after breakfast, Jake pointing out everything he might want or need. He seemed quite nervous for the first day of school, perhaps because of the prospect of leading around an exchange student. After nervously fumbling with and dropping his cell phone, when he reached down to pick it up, Benvolio stopped his arm.

"Jake," he said. "You do not have to worry, even about me. I am sure there will be no trouble this year, if you say so, but if there is a minor argument, don't worry. I will help you."

His eyes flashed mysteriously, and he reached down and grabbed the phone a bit more viciously than he needed to. "It's not you I'm worried about," he admitted. "Look, just-if some guy comes asking for trouble-"

"You know I used to go to a private school, correct?" Benvolio interrupted. He was used to have to wheedle people for information. Romeo had lots of thoughts he didn't like to share.

"Um, I do now," Jake replied.

"They taught us fencing," Benvolio stated matter-of-factly. "I could see about getting a sword for protection."

Jake stared at him for a second, and then laughed. "A sword! Oh, that wouldn't get us expelled or anything. It might even be worth it, to see the look on their faces…good one, Ben."

Benvolio shrugged. There were not swords in this time, either. Still, he hadn't been entirely joking…

Jake pushed his phone way down into his pocket and grabbed his backpack. Benvolio picked up his similar one. "Come on," Jake said, "let's get out to the bus stop."

"Alright," Benvolio agreed, following his friend out the door.


	7. Enlightening Academy

A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm back from band camp! It was great. It really was. Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it. The names really could be better, I know. Review, please, and share your thoughts!

~Bananna

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The good inventions of his dream: plastic, the shower, ice cream, the baseball cap.

Neutral: The slight change in language, frozen vegetables, sun screen.

Bad inventions: THE BUS. And school rules, which apparently didn't allow baseball caps.

The vehicle was a lot more primitive than the car or the airplane. The whole ride from Jake's street corner to the school was bumpy. There were two many children crammed into a small space. The seats needed to be enlarged, also. Benvolio and Jake could barely share one, and they were not the largest kids on the bus. The other children were quiet, sullen, and generally not very awake. Jake pulled out his schedule from his backpack on the way there, showing everything to him.

"Pre-calc first," he mused. "Math in the morning. Icky. American History… computer applications…Lunch. It's my favorite already. French 4…oh, no. I forgot about that. Ben, did you take French back at your old school?

Benvolio bit his lip, trying to think about what he did know. "No…Latin."

"Latin! They offer Latin here. We'll have to ask about that. Study hall, English Literature, Chemistry. That sound good?"

"Do I have a choice?" Ben raised his eyebrows at the seemingly harmless piece of paper.

Jake laughed as the bus pulled into the parking lot of a large building. The school, Benvolio decided, especially when the bus stopped and all of the other students started getting off. He followed Jake, amazed as he saw some of the other youths of this town. Some wore nothing but black. Others had silver dots on their faces! He didn't say any of his thoughts aloud, although he wondered how his dream would react if he did.

The two wandered into the school, made of mostly gray stone, and through another door labeled **GUIDANCE OFFICE.** Jake opened his mouth to talk to a woman typing away at a screen behind the desk, but someone else tapped his shoulder first. Benvolio squinted at all the words, all around him! The desk was labeled **Mrs. Mosh, Secretary. **That must be the person sitting there. The lady who had stopped Jake was wearing a pin that read **Ms. Page, Guidance Counselor**.

"Jake!" she exclaimed. "Did you have a good summer?" He nodded, and she switched her gaze to Benvolio, hovering behind them. "And this must be the foreign exchange student! Ben Mantahue, was it? Welcome to Washington High School."

"Thank you," he said. "I look forward to studying here." He decided not to ask whether he should have a label too.

"We came for his locker number and schedule," Jake explained, pulling out his own with his left hand. "He's taking the same stuff as me, except with Latin instead of French."

Ms. Page took the schedule out of his hand and glanced at it. "That sounds alright, boys. What level of Latin, Ben?"

Level? He thought, bewildered, rapidly deciding on a response. "Ah…advanced."

Jake covered for him, much to Benvolio's gratitude. "He went to a private school out in the country, Ms. Page. They ran things a little different there."

Ms. Page nodded. "Understandable. How many years have you been studying Latin, Ben?"

He thought back. "About five or so, I think."

Her eyebrows rose, impressed. "Latin 4 is the highest class we offer. Why don't you talk to the teacher if you have questions?" She handed Benvolio a white piece of paper, smaller. "I was actually going to deliver this to Jake's first period teacher if you two didn't come talk to me first. This is your locker, Ben. Why don't you go to it now, before your first class?"

"That's a great idea, Ms. Page," cut in Jake. "We'll go find ours now. See you later," he trailed off as he tapped Benvolio's shoulder and steered him back into the hallway.

"I really don't want to be late to class the first day-" he started, but was cut off again, this time by someone who launched himself in between them, and then started walking backwards so he could face them and move at the same time, oblivious to the stares he was receiving.

"Here comes the rebel and the new kid! Too-cool-for-school and the oddity!" Matt crowed. "How does it feel to be-"

"I feel extremely bothered by some annoying kid who won't go away."

"Missed you too, bro." Matt said, running his fingers through his short blond hair. "Ben, what's up?"

"Locker 517," he mused out loud.

"Oh, cool!" Matt's face broke out in a grin. "Mine's 510."

"459," Jake muttered. "A bit down the hall, I guess. Ben, why don't you drop off everything you don't need in your lockers, and I'll meet you at class."

"Sure," Benvolio agreed. Locker…a numbered thing that locks…probably the green boxes lining the hall. Kids were getting into them, by spinning a small dial about the height of his hips. He wandered closer to the wall to get a look at the numbers.

"Hey, Ben!" Matt called. "Our's are down this way." He jerked his head to the left, finding his place next to Ben and walking next to him, slightly guiding him away. Benvolio was slightly surprised. He hadn't really spent any time with Matt when Jake was not there. It didn't seem to matter. Matt seemed completely at ease, rattling off whatever came to his head rapidly, not minding that Benvolio wasn't really holding up his side of the conversation.

"Hey, Ben. Fancy seeing you here, right? I wish. School, school, school…as if we haven't been learning for long enough. So, you like it here? It's better than some. Well, I don't really know. This is the only high school I've ever been to. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about Jake. Is it just me, or has the whole going back to school thing made him a bit more down than it should be?"

"He was very tense this morning," Benvolio started. He might have added more any other time, but now he didn't need to.

"Yeah, that's exactly it! Tense! He's been so uptight, even though the Cats had all summer to cool off."

"What?" Benvolio shot off. An explanation. This was what he'd been waiting for.

Matt gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. "These lockers. What was yours again? Oh, you got it. Never mind. So I guess Jake didn't let you in. He probably hoped it'd just go away."

"What would go away?" Benvolio asked impatiently. Matt went to his own locker, quite near his own, and was spinning the dial, stopping at certain numbers. Oh, that must be what the "combo" was.

Matt sighed. "Look, I think you have to know, just for your own good. So, way back in 3rd grade, these two 9th graders got in a huge fight. They actually blew up a lab room, and set half the baseball field on fire. They got expelled, big time. Everyone in the town knew about it, even us little kids."

"What was their dispute?" Benvolio asked, mystified. The locker door still wasn't opening. He set in the numbers again.

"Nobody knows!" Matt shouted, causing several other kids to look over. He continued anyways. "They refused to tell us little kids! Well, I think that the whole thing was hushed up from everyone, period. Privacy laws and all that. I don't think that's fair. If it was a big enough argument to affect town property, then the town should know what's going on."

"True," muttered Benvolio, yanking on the locker door one last time. It still didn't work.

"But the thing was, there was a huge fight in the entire school system on whose fault it was. One guy's name was Katt and the other was Miento, and somebody was one of them's neighbor…I don't know. It didn't really matter. Soon everybody was fighting."

Benvolio kicked the locker door roughly, causing a large echo. "Whoa," said Matt. "Need some help there?" he came over, looked at the locker combination paper in Ben's hand, and started twirling the dial himself. Benvolio paid special attention this time.

"So then, one day at the playground, one of the kids who like Katt-"

DIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG.

"Darn it, the bell," said Mike, finally opening the locker door. It was an empty space, with some hooks and a shelf. "You know, you don't have anything to carry. Just grab a pencil, stuff the backpack in there, and go to class."

Benvolio did so, and after that they set off through the hall. Matt was walking so quickly, he almost had to trot to keep up.

"Just know the Katts are bad news," Matt said over his shoulder. "There's your class. Good luck." He was swept away by the crowd.

Benvolio didn't say anything, just walked into the room with his mouth set in a straight line. He took the strange-chair-with-a-small-table-attached-to-it next to Jake, who smiled at him but didn't get a chance to talk because of the second bell.

DIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG.


	8. Stupid Schoolteacher

A/N: Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! The rest of you know what to do. ;) In this chapter I really tried to embody all the unfair teachers in the school system. (Not that Benvolio and Jake make it easy for them.) I hope you like it.

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DDDIIINNNGGGGG.

An adult stood up from behind the desk at the front of the room, closed the door, and turned to face the class. "Hello, and welcome to Junior Honors Trigonometry. This is going to be a great year." He flashed them a tired smile, as if he had said those words many times before. His cropped gray hair also supported this theory. "I'm Mr. Hebrews. First off, why don't I take attendance, and then I can hand out the course policy."

He picked up a roll of paper, read names out loud, to which a person raised their hand and replied "here" and he marked them off. After 15 or so names, he said. "Excellent, everybody's here. Now, this year-"

"Excuse me, sir," Benvolio interrupted, raising his own hand, as he figured must be the custom when a student was speaking. "I am also here."

The man turned to give him a stare. "Young man, I'm afraid you must be in the wrong class."

"No, actually, he's new," said Jake, sticking up for him. "An exchange student from England."

Mr. Hebrews switched his focus to Jake. "I see. In the future, this might be a good idea to mention before class starts." On the opposite side of the room, a girl laughed. Benvolio turned his head to look, and when he found her gaze, she narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn't all too sure about student customs, but that laugh didn't sound friendly to him. He studied her long enough to make any normal person uncomfortable before he finally turned his head back to the front of the classroom. She would have been pretty, with long straight black hair pulled back in the modern style named after a pony's tail, if she hadn't been giving him a dirty look the whole time.

"We talked to the guidance department before school," replied Jake, his eyes getting brighter. "I thought they might have communicated something. Sorry."

The teacher's eyes compared the two of them, flicking back and forth, as if already memorizing their faces for trouble. Benvolio's stomach squirmed. He didn't like this feeling, and he did not realize what exactly he had done wrong.

"Are you sure you are eligible for this class, young man?" the teacher asked. "What is your name?"

Benvolio swallowed. Suddenly he was very glad for his dream cover. "My name is…Ben Mantahue. I am quite learned in arithmetic, algebra, and geometry. I am quite ready for more advanced mathematics, sir."

"We'll see about that," the teacher said softly. He picked up another stack of papers off each desk, and produced in passing them out to every student. The rest of the time for the class went smoothly, if you could call it that. Benvolio could see why Jake and Matt had dreaded school. The teacher automatically didn't trust his students, eyeing Jake and himself carefully while reading over the sheet entitled "course expectations." Once, when Benvolio leaned over to ask Jake a question, the teacher called him out.

"Mr. Mantahue, would you like to share that comment to Mr. Lapet with the class?"

Benvolio's cheeks burned, but he was determined not to let this man win. "Sir, I was just asking what a calculator was."

Mr. Hebrews raised his eyebrows. "This?" he said, holding up his own blue-with-buttons device. "This that calculates large products, sums, and other answers that would be hard to do by hand? A calculator was necessary in previous courses, young man."

Benvolio took the sight of it in. How did that work with numbers? "We do not call it a calculator back at home, sir."

"Mr. Mantahue, please tell us, what do you refer to this as?" asked the teacher. His voice sounded like a monotone, but nevertheless, Benvolio thought over the question.

"The abacus," he finally decided. Snorts of amusement went up around the class, causing Benvolio to sit back, pleased with himself. Mr. Hebrews just gave him a look and continued.

Jake wrote something on his paper, suspiciously large for notes, and then tipped the paper so that the end with his handwriting was hanging over his desk towards Ben. He looked at the inscription, which read:

_Nice. What are you trying to do here?_

Benvolio shrugged at Jake, and then wrote something down on his own paper.

_Not trying to do anything. Why does he dislike us?_

Jake shook his head.

_He doesn't like the company I keep. That's all._

Then, thankfully, the bell rang. Every student jumped up, grabbing their papers, and was out the door in seconds. Jake looked at Ben's apparent lack of school supplies.

"Where's all your stuff, Ben?"

"In my locker."

"Why didn't you bring any of it?"

"Matt said I didn't need it."

Jake groaned. "Matt…don't listen to him. Kid's crazy. Fails school."

"Really?" Benvolio echoed, shocked.

"No, not really. He keeps them up enough for…"

"For what?" Benvolio snapped, tired of his trailing off attempts to hide his own thoughts. If Jake kept hiding the truth, he would never find out anything.

"Enough to not annoy anybody," Jake decided on finally. "Matt tries to avoid taking sides…until recently, anyways…"

"He would follow you to the end, in a fight," Benvolio stated. "Do not worry. His friendship for you is strong."

Jake gave him a look, but did not answer. Again, as Benvolio trailed behind him to the next class, he found himself wondering what his friend was really thinking.


	9. Skilled Speaker

A/N: Hey, guys! I'm going to try to have the next chapter up in 2 days, so you won't have to wait long. I want to thank my wonderful reviewers, again. What do you guys think? Should I start making each chapter longer?

~Bananna

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All morning followed the same routine, although most teachers where generally more accepting and exciting to have Ben in their class, rather than resentful. One, the History teacher, actually wished for him to stand up and talk about his old country to the class, but luckily he managed to get out of and by blushing and having Jake make excuses for him. Matt was taking lunch break the same time they were, so everything was fine as far as that went.

The lessons the school had planned for him had really been a blessing. Well, math was universal. Benvolio did know his way around numbers. There couldn't possibly a better course of study for him than American History, to tell him what had happened in the last several hundred years. The fact that he had never heard of America before a week ago might prove a problem, but not an immediate one. Computer applications-teaching him how to use the new device! That was brilliant. Lunch was brilliant. He had Latin next, which should also be nothing new, and then the other courses.

He bid goodbye to Jake and Matt, headed to French and Spanish respectively, and ducked into the Latin classroom. The walls were covered with maps and pictured of Roman architecture, some of which Benvolio recognized. He smiled gratefully at the pictures, as if they were comforting him by showing objects older than he was.

A sound of tapping footsteps followed his pathway through the door, and Benvolio turned, startled, to find a small woman with white hair ambling in after him. She walked over to the desk, put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, and asked him, "Es vos novus discipulus?"

He thought for a second –he was a little rusty, and Latin had never been the most interesting subject- and answered "Etiam, meus nomen in Ben." **(NOTE: I apologize to all real Latin students out there for the mistakes I'm bound to be making in the poor language.)**

Her face broke into a smile. "Welcome," she said. "That's quite a talent there, to be able to speak a dead language."

Benvolio squirmed inwardly. So not even the clergy used Latin anymore. "Thank you, m'am," he said.

"My name is Mrs. Brigham," she said, as other students walked into the classroom. They were all tall and very at ease, moseying in and chatting among themselves. Benvolio chose a seat next the window, three seats back just to be safe. There were just enough students in the class to make this seem normal. Perhaps 10 or 15 students filled the desks.

The bell rung and woman, who seemed tiny in comparison to her students, stood up. "Exspectata discipulus! Latin four is always a very interesting class, for our seniors who have stuck this through all four years- although this year, we will be joined by junior Ben Mantahue, who has taken all qualifying courses at his previous schools."

All of the seniors looked around to look at him curiously. Benvolio smiled and waved his hand at them. To his immense relief, they smiled and laughed back at him, and he was able to relax for the rest of the period.

When he walked out of the classroom, he quickly met Jake in the hallway. To his surprise, the brooding expression that had been there all morning was replaced by a small smile.

"Jake?" Benvolio asked. He didn't seem to be paying particular attention to him. "Jake? Earth to Jake? How was French?" He tapped his friend on the shoulder.

The physical contact seemed to wake him up. "Huh? Oh, hey Ben. French was, um, fine. Just f-"

"HEY!" a voice exploded, and Matt launched himself between Jake and himself again, like he had that morning. "You know, this could work for me. This whole three of us thing. I've only ever had one pushover to knock around before."

"I'm glad we finally have your approval to start hanging out together now," Jake commented dryly, and Benvolio laughed. "It's not like we just spent the whole last week of summer together. Not at all."

"You quit teaming up on poor Mercutio, now," he joked, throwing his hands in the air. Benvolio gasped, choked on his own spit, and started coughing loudly to clear his airways. He received two very enthusiastic wallops on his back for help.

"You okay, Ben?"

"Yes, I am alright," he gasped, eyes watering slightly. "Could you repeat that?"

"I said, 'You quit teaming up on poor Matteo, now,' and Jake snorted and you start hacking up a lung. But points for valuing good dialogue when you hear it."

Jake grunted again. "He doesn't value it; he just was raised right, with _manners_."

"Oh, dear sir Jake, what a wound! And after I just thought that us three could learn to share the building blocks!"

"Yep. References to kindergarten really make you sound smart."

Benvolio stopped listening as his heart, which had skipped a beat or two, returned to a normal tempo. Was he really going mad, and imagining things? Could he really not survive without his friends?

Maybe he couldn't. He had gotten replacements for them rather quickly. If he could count Jake and Matt as friends, considering they really didn't know who he was. Matt did bear a strong resemblance to Mercutio…Was Jake like Romeo? He started straining his mind for similarities…

Stop this, he told himself viciously. Stop this now. The dead are dead. Do not go around poking their graves.

Then the thought, the one he had been holding back all this time, entered into his head, bidden or not.

What if _he, Benvolio_ were dead? What if the glass cuts and the poison from the friar's cell had killed him? What if this was purgatory? He didn't think it could be anything else. What if he had been sent back to earth for another judgment, hundreds of years and miles later? What if this wasn't a dream?

Benvolio shook his head, flipping his dark curls this way and that as though that could physically remove his stray thoughts. Nothing really explained this. Nothing really explained who Shakespeare was and why he had written down and published the whole bloody story in the form of a sinful drama.

"Hey, Benjy. Earth to BEN. Geez, between you and Mr. Dreamy here no one's ever going to listen to my ramblings. You didn't actually cough up anything important, did you? You went pale for a second."

Benvolio looked up into the faces to his two best friends on the current planet. He hadn't gone as far to fear he wasn't on earth yet…

"Dude, do you feel good?"

"Hey, Ben, come on. Do you need the nurse?"

"Was American school too much for you?"

"Shut up, Matt…"

"I am alright," Benvolio repeated from earlier, his tone listless. "Perfectly alright. No, I do not need the nurse, and Matt, I have seen worse school practices than this."

Jake and Matt grinned at each other, Matt muttering something about how it figures Ben would pipe up before he could get in a good comeback, and Jake punching his arm in a friendly way. Jake was sensitive to people's feelings, like Romeo had been.

Ben shook his head again, breathing in deeply. However and why-ever he was here, it was not to compare his old friends to his new ones. He was just lucky to find those similarities, that was all. That was it. He was just lucky.

Lucky. Benvolio snorted at the thought. He wasn't feeling very accepting of Lady Luck at the moment. Her small rewards didn't make up for the ultimate bad tidings.


	10. Desperate Document

A/N: More to come soon! I'll have the next chapter up in two days. It's going to be Benvolio's paper-I hope I can do it justice. Review, please!

~Bananna

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ben groaned, blindly feeling towards his new alarm clock the Lapets had given him so he wouldn't have to be awakened by Jake every morning, thank goodness. He turned it off, vaguely wondering if he could just rest in bed for a few minutes. No, he couldn't do that, he'd fall asleep again. With a groan, he sat up, grabbed the clothes he had laid out the night before, and made his way into the shower for two reasons. One, because Jake had used it last night so he had to take the opportunity in the morning, and two, so he could think.

It had been three weeks. Three weeks of school that had felt like forever. Three weeks of hanging out with Jake and Matt. Three weeks of absolutely no fighting that Jake had been so worried about.

Life, as it should be for the average teenage guy, was good.

The careless kind of good. Sure, everyone would complain about homework and things like that, but Benvolio knew to take it as a blessing. So that's what he was, for once in his life, careless. Not worried about Mercutio getting in trouble, or Romeo and his lover problems, or the stupid feud thing, or the fact that he wasn't counting the days since their deaths anymore. Nothing.

With a sigh, he finished, got dressed, and jumped down the stairs (2 at a time, as normal) and met Jake and his mom at the breakfast table. They smiled and fell into the routine. Eating. Riding the bus. Complaining about not have a car or a license. Math. History. Computers. Lunch.

Ben had slowly gotten introduced to the rest of Jake and Matt's friends. There was Adam, and sometimes a senior called Peter, who was somehow related to Matt, a small freshman that rarely spoke, some other ones…Ben wasn't particularly concerned about names. They didn't matter to him. As far as he knew, this was still a dream, true?

"So, what'd you guys write for your English project?" Jake casually asked that day.

Ben, who had been in the middle of taking a large gulp of water from his water bottle, promptly spit some out in surprise. Matt made a gagging noise, which he ignored. "The English project!" he exclaimed. "I forgot! I completely forgot! Aye me, I didn't do it! I'm dead!"

Jake raised his eyebrows, but of course Matt couldn't pass up the opportunity. "Oh, are you ever. Isn't that, like, half of your semester grade? You're screwed, my friend. You have about as much chance at passing now as we do of having Jake tell us which girl he likes."

"Shut up, Matt."

"See, Ben, he definitely likes somebody. Now, what was I saying?"

"A bunch of rubbish," snorted Jake, still steaming. "Every since Valerie broke up with you-"

"Oh, yeah, I was describing the state of your doom. You're as dead as the postman when this family just got five new German Shepherds. You're as dead as the fish whose bowl I never cleaned. You're as dead as Mr. Hebrew's head of hair. You're as dead as Jake's love lif-"

"Shut up now if you want to live to see last period," Jake growled, as the whole lunch table erupted with laughter.

Ben shoved his head into his hands. "Well, I can always do it in study hall."

"The whole project in 40 minutes? Really, amigo?"

"I bet there've been worse handed in."

"True," agreed Matt. "But that doesn't change the fact that I don't think you have any poster board or markers to outline the plot with."

Ben squirmed in his seat. There really wasn't a plot, that was just the way it happened. Benvolio had a problem with _Romeo and Juliet._ It was mostly accurate, as far as he could tell, but no one really spoke in Iambic pentameter. Everything Shakespeare this and Shakespeare that. And he hated the class lessons and discussions. The teacher had this opinion that he was the shyest boy she'd ever had, but Benvolio really didn't trust himself to speak about this out loud. Explaining the story to Jake and Matt was one thing. Hearing how _Benvolio_ sounded like _Benevolent_ and therefore he was the peacemaker and blahblahblah was another.

There had been once close call. Well, actually, several... There was Queen Mab's speech. And the day Mercutio had died. The balcony seen had actually been informative, if anything else. To see what his cousin might have been doing. But the day he really almost blew his top when the day the class had a discussion on Romeo.

"There are some scholars," the teacher had said, "that criticize his character. What do you think? Was the tragedy Romeo's fault?"

That one wasn't difficult. They talked about whose fault it was periodically.

"Some say he is too quick to act," she said. "That he was too emotional. Too quick to marry Juliet, to avenge Mercutio, to kill himself."

Benvolio snorted at that one. Darn right, he'd been too quick…you hadn't seen Ben out there hunting Tybalt, even though he'd also wanted to scream for blood…

"Some say," the teacher called out again, bring other debating students to a halt, "that Romeo was never really in love with Juliet."

Benvolio stiffened in his seat.

"Notice the way he cast off Rosaline so quickly," she shouted, "after meeting Juliet. He wasn't in love with her. He was in love with being in love."

Sometime during that phrase he had started shaking. Romeo hadn't loved Juliet? He had promised her a lie? He had married her on a lie? He had killed himself on a lie?

Benvolio may not have kept as good track of his cousin as he should, but he did know that when Romeo told you something, he meant it, and he would get that deadly serious look in his eyes and he would go out there and do whatever it took. Benvolio had witnessed it way back when they were thirteen and Romeo ran a raiding mission on the Capulet mansion just to get Mercutio's purse back. When they were ten, and Romeo promised his father that he'd get his mother a gold necklace for her birthday. When he was eight, and his mother died, and Romeo promised he could live at their house, no matter what Prince Escalus said about his mother's debts.

When Romeo promised something, he meant it.

Suddenly Benvolio knew what to do. "I won't do the outline," he exclaimed. "I'll do the paper."

This was met by a lot of sarcastic stares. "Dude, she grades those, like, twice as hard."

"I know."

"You don't even have pictures to distract her."

"I know."

"She said you need to write at least three pages from a characters' point of view."

"Iambic Pent- well, never mind. That'd just be ridiculous."

The lunch bell rung, signaling the end, and Benvolio muttered to Jake "I'll be in the computer room during study hall," and ran out of there. When he reached his destination, he started working right away. What alien words those were, appearing from under his keyboard on the screen.

_My name is Benvolio Montague…_


	11. Ben's Paper

A/N: Hey guys! Happy August. I hope you appreciate this chapter, it's nice and long. =) I really hope I accurately portrayed Benvolio's voice, and how he must be feeling. Please tell me how I did! (Review pretty please?)

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_My name is Benvolio Montague, and I am the only child left._

_No, I am not a child. I am sixteen, but before this year, it seemed like I was one, even if I was always the responsible one, the reserved one, the poor one whose parents had died. The one who's father had been a hero. He was a hero, apparently, but nobody knows his full story. Not even me. _

_Now they are dead, and I am left. I am left to go to the funerals. I am left for them to look at and sympathize. At sixteen there should be more people entering your life than leaving. Death is for the old. _

_Now, I look at myself, and I wonder if I am old. _

_My life used to be in balance. Look here and see. I lived in the huge Montague mansion. I would wake up, eat the breakfast the servant got me, and go downstairs to greet my uncle. Each day I checked up on him, just to let him know how thankful I was for him taking me in and clearing my mother's debts. Then I asked Lady Montague if she wanted me and Romeo to go with her to the market that day. Occasionally the answer was yes. Then I would go upstairs and wake my cousin, difficult task as it was. I threatened him if need be, even if I never would hurt a hair on his head. Well, maybe I would, if he was very irrational one day. But most of the time, not a hair. _

_So maybe an hour later the three of us and assorted servants would be walking to Verona's market square. Romeo would insist to his mother that we passed Mercutio's house along the way, so Mercutio and his man always accompanied us also. After Lady Montague found whatever shop she was looking for, she excused us to go wander around the way all youth do. Sometimes she gave Romeo some extra coin, and so he thanked his mother and smiled secretly at Mercutio and I. Then she asked me to make sure nothing happened to us (because I was a year older than the other two) and I told her Of course not, Lady Montague. _

_Sometimes, I was secretly jealous. I wished I had a mother to call and thank and disrespect when she wasn't looking. Unfortunately, I was too old for one. I had no need for a mother. I could take care of myself. _

_The things I couldn't always take care of were my friends. Mercutio was restless. He loved to prank and to talk and make fun of others and to shout insults at the Capulets. He never took any thing or body seriously. When they were younger, Romeo had usually enjoyed the same activities, but as they grew older he and Mercutio used each other's personalities to create their own. Mercutio became to quickest wit in Verona. Romeo, too, enjoyed matching wits, but he liked to dream when conversation was done and over and look at things with a curious eye, like a philosopher. This way was the balance that I enjoyed in my life. Mercutio was loud enough, Romeo was inquisitive enough, and I was responsible enough. This way I did not need a mother. _

_One day, when I was fifteen, I noticed that instead of gazing at the sky with bright eyes, Romeo was frowning. _

"_What is it, cos?" I asked, but he murmured that it was nothing. I did not need to pressure him for the news. Mercutio did that for me. _

_He remained mute, until the day was done and we were walking back to the mansion with his mother. Quietly, he whispered to me, "Do you think I too young to be courting women?"_

_I looked at him in surprise, for truly I did not expect him to be thinking like that. He was still my younger charge in my eyes. I told him no, that he was not too young, if he were careful. Then, he asked, if he was not too young, why was I not courting?_

_I gave him a small smile at that, even if I knew the tips my ears where turning red as a...certain pair of girls entered my thoughts. Those were dark days. "Truth pray tells, I have tried, but could not find anyone with the right… disposition."_

"_Excuse me, Benvolio?" Lady Montague said, hearing my last statement._

"_We were discussing fishing, aunt," I called, and that was where the conversation ended. _

_Life wobbled a bit after that, but nobody fell. It was as if Romeo's emotions were just a small weight added to a side of the scale. Nothing was even any more, but we hadn't fallen all that far. To tell the truth, maybe I did not become aware of it because of all the disputes that had started up. _

_There had always been the feud. I knew that, and I hated all Capulets with a disgust that had been bred in me practically since birth. Still, it wasn't a real hate. It was like the hate of a child and his vegetables. You could eat them and survive. It was the adults who really had to eat the majority of them so they wouldn't spoil. In the same way, I believe that it was mostly Lord Montague who pulled the social strings. He found a way to outdo the Capulets in public, to embarrass them just a small bit…later I found out the servants regularly had arguments against each other as well. Still, it did not really affect me. The head of the family faced the other head, the servants against the servants. I did not have, or want, a match. _

_It was Tybalt who found me. _

_He had not been born in Verona. Rather, he had come to the Capulet family a year or two prior. Mercutio had pointed him out and sworn at him under his breath a few times. I knew of his existence, but I did not care. _

_There were three brawls in the streets of Verona before my friends died. The first was my fault. Romeo argued viciously against this statement afterwards. Mercutio laughed and told me it was true. I believe he was joking. I think. _

_Tybalt was about my height, but about twice as thick around. I was not in bad physical shape, but this man was a troll. After buying lunch from a local restaurant, I had a spare penny left, so planning on throwing it into the fountain I said, "To Lord Montague's new windfall."_

"_That stolen one?" a voice snarled behind me. I turned, and it was him, Tybalt. Mercutio and Romeo froze like rabbits next to me. I, young and unknowing, took a step forward to try to talk to this enemy._

"_No, not stolen at all," I said. "In fact, earned."_

"_Thou wouldn't know anything about earning, Montague," he hissed. Before that, I had purposefully held back from family insults, but if he had to bring it up…_

"_Yes, because thou has worked so often," I shot back, looking over his posse behind him. "I do not need to pay my friends."_

_He snarled at me, a strange animalistic noise. I did not understand it, so I disregarded it. "What is the matter?" I asked. "It could not be that I am right, could it?"_

"_Thou were born with a silver spoon. Thou have nothing of thy own."_

_I narrowed my eyes at this, reaching over with my left hand to tap Romeo and Mercutio on the shoulder. "Shoo, you two," I said quietly. "Let thy elder cousin teach the beast how deluded he really is." I know this does sound out of character for me. However, he shouldn't have mentioned my birth. I was born without a father, and I would not let him insult that. _

_My two younger friends did leave as I asked, but Romeo gave me a long look before he finally disappeared off the street. I wanted to know his thoughts, but had larger things to worry about. Mainly the brute in front of me. _

_Tybalt, the thug, was truly top notch at swordplay, and he knew it too. Even as I refocused my gaze on him, his blade was out and moving. He did not even bother to comment on my last command. After two minutes, I knew that I would not win the traditional way. I was lighter on my feet, but he was stronger and had a heavier blade. I looked around the street again for something to aid me in my struggle. There was the fountain. I could get away if I could cause him to slip into that. Maybe if I backed him up against it…I knew that would be physically difficult for me. I was not in the position to be thinking of forcing him anywhere. _

_What could I distract him with? His friends, standing right to the side? Could I kick up dust from the road into his eyes? Could I use the coin I had never thrown into the fountain, shoved unthinkingly into my pocket? _

_"Aye!" I shouted at him, struggling to make myself heard over the crowd that had been gathering. His eyes narrowed as I made a particularly bad one-armed swing, casting myself so off balance that I almost fell into the fountain myself. Raising his own blade for the killing stroke, almost as if he couldn't believe it, he paused before brining his sword down. _

_My other hand, not holding the sword, had grabbed the coin and thrown it at the giant. It hit him squarely in between the eyes. He stumbled back a moment, confused, and I used all of my strength to give him that one last push over the edge of the fountain. His entire body went under, and when Tybalt finally resurfaced, he was spluttering. _

_I re-sheathed my saber, watching and panting for breath as he spat water out of his mouth. As a last dramatic effect (for seeing as all the trouble I would already be in, I might as well not hold back) scooped up the coin from the ground as finally gave it too the water._

_"To the superiority of the Montagues," I said, looking Tybalt square in the face. There was a moment of silence before he bellowed and started to rise again. With his yell, the crowd broke into chaos behind us. It was 15 minutes until the police had everything had completely settled down, not that I was there. I slipped out of there as quickly as I could, and at that moment I decided that more than ever I really hated any all forms of brawls._

_That was the first fight. There were two more, the last one the day Romeo first met Juliet, __if what Shakespeare says is true,__ and then three days later they were all dead. _

_I loved Romeo and Mercutio as if they really were my brothers. It was unfair of them to leave me like this! It was unfair to leave me the last child left, to leave me with the funerals and the graves and the death! Death is for the old. That's funny- I suppose I am not the only child left, after all, for I was forced to be old. I guess there are no children left after all._


	12. Blind Benevolence

A/N: Hey all! Hope you like it. We're really getting into the plot now. Review, please? =)

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DDDIIINNNGGGGG.

Benvolio smiled at his luck- he'd made it in the classroom door the second before the bell. He plopped his backpack down on the seat of his desk and quietly asked the teacher if he could get a drink of water. She said yes, or course- she still thought he was a shy student that needed all the positive reinforcement he could get. He took his time walking down the hall to the drinking fountain, giving his heart time to calm down.

He wished he had better control of himself and his emotions. He was sixteen, a junior in high school. He shouldn't have to blink tears of anger out of his eyes. He shouldn't be getting angry at dead people for dying, period. He needed to put the past behind him.

"CRAP!" some booming male voice screamed from down the hallway. Benvolio slowly bent down to brush the water to his lips, all the while looking out of the corner of his eye at the newcomer, who he recognized. Tyler, who was in his same class. He was about 6 inches taller than most of the population of earth, and just as much louder. Jake would sometimes mutter words like "obnoxious" and "idiot" to Ben after school, but he'd never once looked at Tyler twice in the classroom. They had a mutual feeling to avoid each other like the plague- or even more so. Benvolio had once overheard Jake and Matt share a heated discussion involving his name and several others (including the snobbish girl in his math class, Katrina) when they both thought he wasn't paying attention, but he hadn't caught more than a few words here and there. Words like "Katt" and "fight" and "son of a b-"

"I forgot my freakin' paper at home!" Tyler exploded to one of his friends, whom Benvolio didn't know. "My dad's going to kill me if I fail! He hasn't been the same since you-know-what. Oh crap. Shoot me now. Anyone got a knife in their locker?"

Benvolio started walking back to his classroom without looking around. Mercutio had always called him a wimp- and Matt had too, come to think of it. Sometimes Mercutio and Romeo had just rolled their eyes when ever he pulled a stunt like this. Sometimes, though, Benvolio had a feeling they were impressed, even if they didn't want to admit it.

Benvolio made up his mind as he sat back down in his desk. Nobody would really care about his grades, anyways. He grabbed a Sharpie Marker from out of his bag and crossed off **Ben Mantahue** from the top of each page. In its placed he scribbled **Tyler Sgarlotinni **and passed the paper on top of the desk two rows back and three over. When Tyler entered the room, he only paused a moment before picking up the packet on his desk. Benvolio watched discreetly as his eyes scanned the paper, and again when the teacher came around. Tyler handed in the paper without a second thought.

The teacher did stop in front of Benvolio's desk, giving him a pointed look when he didn't immediately shove something at her.

"They right dates differently in Europe," he told her. "Day, the month, unlike here. I thought that the paper was due the 10 of December, not the 12 of October. Please excuse me."

However bad or inaccurate his excuse may have been, she bought it enough to say, "Well, just turn in the project as soon as possible," and continue on her rounds.

From the other side of the room, Jake was mouthing words furiously, but Ben shook his head. He could fill Jake in later.

* * *

"You…what?" Matt asked.

Benvolio sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers again. "He sounded very distressed, so I wrote his name on my paper."

"Distressed…are you hearing this, Matt?" Jake shouted to the little machine known as a "speaker." Matt was not actually in the Lapet household, but through this device, he could hear and talk back to Jake and Ben, who were lounging around on the Lapets' living room furniture. Well, at least Ben was. Jake seemed to be very tense.

"Calm down, man," Matt commented, strangely serious for once. "It's your fault anyways. You're the one who didn't want to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Ben piped up. He was ignored by both parties.

"Just because I'm over my problems doesn't mean he deserves Ben being nice to him." Jake growled. He was clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides.

"_What_ problems?"

"Jake has lots of problems."

"Shut up, Matt."

Ben sniggered a little bit at their usual bicker, earning him a glare from Jake. Quickly he rearranged his features into a more imposing manner. "Somebody better tell me what's going on right now, and why you don't like that Tyler kid."

He waited for Matt to answer, but the little machine was quiet. Finally, not meeting his eye, Jake muttered, "Just know that Tyler's bad news."

Silence fell again. Finally, Ben finally sighed, "Fine, okay. Nobody be nice to the new kid. You know, I think I'm going to go up to Tyler tomorrow and ask if he wants to help me beat Jake Lapet up. While we're at it, maybe I can hear his side of the story-"

"Alright!" Jake shouted, throwing his arms up in the air, "If you want to know the tragic story so bad, then I'll tell you. Then maybe you can finally stop complaining about it." He brushed his hair angrily back out of his eyes.

Benvolio bit his lip. "Ah, Jake, I really did not mean to upset-"

"Quit blubbering, Ben, its' pathetic." Jake snapped, and then took a deep breath. Benvolio held his tongue. He didn't know what had come over his friend.

"Look, there was a time when I- he- and it- um." Jake started. Benvolio could mentally feel Matt rolling his eyes, but again he didn't comment. Jake's mouth twitched as he looked for words, his eyes cast down.

Benvolio reached out a hand to touch Jake's shoulder. He looked up, eyebrows raised. "Let me get this straight," Benvolio started explaining. "There are three groups of people in the school: the Katts, the Mients, and the undecided. Tyler and Katrina from our math class are Katts. We are Mients. Jake and Tyler got into a huge fight last year that got both of you in a heap of trouble."

Jake gave him a surprised look while Matt's voice rang out, "Yeah, that's it, basically. See, Jake, I told you he'd figure it out. He's not stupid."

"Why did you say 'we' are Mients?" Jake asked. "You haven't done anything. You don't need to be in this whole mess."

Benvolio casually took his pillow and threw it at his friend. "I just threw a pillow at him, Matt. Of course I'm on your side. And you can't get rid of me either."

Jake gave a shaky laugh, to which Matt joined in. "One last thing, though," Ben said. "Why are you guys Mients and they Katts? Why not the other way around?"

Jake's eyes flashed. "Katt was Tyler's cousin. And Tyler's a bad kid. So obviously Miento was right."

"But-"

"Just drop the subject." Jake insisted.

"But-"

"Ben," Matt cut in. "The Katts are jerks. That's all the reason we need."

Benvolio crossed his arms over his chest but said nothing. This was all he needed, another stupid feud. Just to mirror his old life.

"Hey, Jake, Matt, can you promise me something?"

"What?" asked Matt.

"Depends." Jake's voice was low and his face was cloudy.

"Don't…die. Do not ever get in a fight with somebody with serious weapons, and do not kill somebody blindly for revenge, and don't you dare ever _ever_ commit suicide." The words came tumbling out of his mouth. He took a shaky breath to calm himself. "Is that clear?"

Matt seemed to take it all in stride. He always did. "Wouldn't dream of it, mate. And deprive you of the privilege of getting to look at my handsome face every day? I promise."

"Why?" Jake asked. "Why do you want me to promise?"

Benvolio's jaw dropped, but Matt beat him to the punch. His voice sounded fuzzier than usual because of the machine. "Because he doesn't want you to die, moron. Is that really so hard? Promise already and then-"

There was another noise coming from the speaker. Benvolio could hear the grimace in Matt's voice. "But actually, yeah, why do you ask, Ben? Make it snappy because I've got a brother who wants to use the phone."

"I… just… had a couple friends who got themselves into trouble back home. And I don't want you guys to have to deal with the same thing." Benvolio spoke softly.

Another background noise came out of the Speaker Machine. "I'm sorry, Ben," Matt said. "We'll talk at school. I got –YES I HEAR YOU VINNE- to go."

Jake waited until the light next to the word **speakerphone** blinked out to talk. "That's why you became an exchange student, wasn't it? Home was too painful for you?"

Benvolio bit his lip, hating having to lie to his friend. Although, if leaving home had been an option for him, would he have taken it? Should he have? "Yes, that's why I left. My two best friends in the whole world got in some stupid mess and…and…" his voice faded.

Jake looked at him, his eyes full of compassion. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Benvolio bit his tongue before he would come out with some stupid retort. _I don't even need to talk about it, because some stupid author wrote the whole story in the form of a very popular play. Mercutio got himself run through and Romeo drank a poison because he felt he couldn't live without Juliet. I'd never even met Juliet. She was a Capulet. She couldn't have been that special._

"No," Ben replied, his gruff. He jumped to his feet. "No, I just need to forget about it, that's all. I think I'm going to go to my room. Homework." He dashed out of the room without looking back.

He'd avoided talking about "England" ever since he'd arrived in this strange place and time. Well, at least Jake now had an explanation for his strange behavior. He bounded up the stairs, two at a time, grimacing to himself. Now Jake might want to find out more about his home. Stupid natural curiosity. The same trait in himself that had annoyed Jake so much. It seems they were more alike than they thought. Maybe, if he'd been born here, they could have been brothers. Or at least cousins.


	13. Horrific Heartache

A/N: So this chapter has little to do with the plot, but I figured that Ben could use a little more venting. I'd be a wreck if my two best friends died. Just a little more developing of his character. I'll have the next chapter up soon, I promise. Until then, enjoy life!

Oh, yeah, and a HUGE thank you to my wonderful reviewers. Your comments mean a bunch to me. For next time - do you think Jake and Matt's bantering gets old after a while? I've started the next chapter already, and there's a bunch of it. Should I cut some out?

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As always, life went on. It went on past October, November, and suddenly Benvolio had been living in a dream for 4 months. He woke up one morning to find a good five inches of snow on the ground. Suddenly his throat choked up. There rarely was anything more than a light dusting of snow in Verona. The worst thing was that he couldn't even express this thought to anyone, or else he would give away the fact that he wasn't from England.

He groaned and sat back down onto his bed heavily. England could go to Hades. He missed his homeland with such ferocity that it was revealing itself in the form of a headache. His stomach rumbled, so he sighed and started walking out of his bedroom to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

There was an awful amount of light outside for early morning, since he had woken up before his alarm went off. There also was a strange amount of noise coming out of the kitchen. No one else was supposed to be up at this hour, appart from Jake, and he had strange habits in the morning. Ben never really knew where to find him.

Considering how odd everything was going, he was not really surprised to find Jake and Matt talking at the table. Benvolio grabbed a bowl, a box of cereal, and the milk carton and joined them.

"What time is it?" he asked hoarsely. He wished he had sat on the other side of the table, so he wouldn't have to look out the window at the extreme amount of white.

Jake glanced at his watch. "Half past eleven. Mom suggested I turn off your alarm for you when I found out that it was a snow day. She said you needed the sleep."

"So he lets you sleep and calls me," Matt grumbled. "How unfair is that?"

"Yeah, but guess what this genius was doing?" Jake retorted. "He was getting ready for school anyways. The half foot of snow didn't clue him in to as school might be a _little_ bit hard to get too. Since he was waiting outside for the bus anyways I figured he might as well come over here and entertain me."

"Entertain," Matt huffed. "That's all I am, entertainment? I could have gone back to sleep."

"Why would you want to? You were already up and dressed and everything."

Matt rolled his eyes and whispered to Ben, "Bloody morning people."

He took in the entire conversation, his mind wandering far from their words or the cereal he was mechanically spooning into his mouth. It was almost noon. He had never slept as late in his life. A servant had always woken him up, on his strict aunt's orders. His aunt who had died recently. Her son, who had also been a bloody morning person, when he wasn't up half the night pining for girls.

"Anyways, now that you're up we might as well do something productive with our day."

"Yeah. I was thinking we build several snowmen right outside Mr. Hebrews' window. And give them all angry faces."

"Sure. Let's also give him a signed note telling him to not be such a Katt-loving teacher."

"Jake, do you have to always shoot down all of my ideas?"

"Yes, Matt, I do, because they are always stupid. Every single -"

"Would you too just shut up already?" Benvolio snapped. "It's awful. Just shut up!" He jumped up from his chair, but the white snow seemed to have left an impression that he could see on the back of his eyelids. Angry he turned and started to clean up his breakfast dishes as fast as he could, angry shoving everything away.

He could feel Jake and Matt exchanging a glance behind his back. Nervously, Jake asked, "Um, Ben, do you want to talk about anything?"

"No," he shot out. "No, I'm fine. Just sick of you two bickering like-"

_Like my friends used to do._

"-like the plague was upon you." A sick feeling arose in his mouth.

"Ben-"

"I'm going upstairs to change," he said, starting to head out of the kitchen.

"Ben, hold up." He felt a touch on the back of his arm, and he turned around to find the two hovering behind him, concerned looks on both of their faces. "Dude, what's wrong?"

"Yeah," Jake agreed, "What's bugging you?"

"Nothing," Benvolio hissed, tugging his arm out of their reach. ""Nothing in this whole stupid world." He turned to storm off again.

"Ben," Jake interrupted again. "Are you sure you're ok? I don't think you are."

"Or course I'm sure." He was walking away.

"Are you homesick?"

"Not really."

"Is this about your friends? You know, the ones who…died?"

Benvolio froze, his foot on the first step of the staircase. He slowly turned. "As opposed to the ones who didn't?" he asked, his voice flat. He gave a humorless laugh. "I never really had that many friends. And they're dead now. Both of them. Because of a stupid fight."

He pretended not to notice when they exchanged another look.

"Are you sure you… you don't want to….talk?"

"WHAT IS THERE TO TALK ABOUT?" he screamed. "So what if my two best friends of 16 years just died? So what if I still think about them as if they could wake up and converse with me tomorrow? So what if I be as mad as hell at them for leaving me alone, whence they hast been the only ones I ever really trusted after my mother died? So what if I be betraying them by replacing them with you in such haste? So what if I just abandoned my uncle after they died, mine only live family left, to come here? So what? Mine friends art agone and they art never coming back and I needeth-"

His voice shook inside his throat. He swallowed everything down and whispered, "I need to get over it already. Because if I can't stop the feelings now, than I never will."

"Ben-"

He ignored the voices. He turned and thudded up the stairs, slamming shut the door of his room.

As he sat back down heavily on the bed with his head in his hands, all he could see was the snow right outside his window. It was maybe the first time in his life he didn't hate the sight of it. The snow was cold and unfeeling and heartless. Maybe he had to be the same.


	14. Food Fight

A/N: Wow, feels like forever since I've updated. Sorry if it's been long - I'm going to another summer camp, but its not sleep away this time. No, I can do band all day, but volleyball would be too much to handle.

This chapter branches right off of the last one. There are a lot of knew names in this chapter, hope it's not too confusing. One clarification: the Paris figure will be known as Patrick. I beleive I called him Peter earlier in the story, before I realized that the name Peter is actually used in _Romeo and Juliet._ He's the nurse's servant, in case you were wondering. I hope the rest of the new characters are obvious.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Romeo and Juliet. _That play was written by William Shakespeare.

* * *

His friends, being who they were, didn't bring up his outburst again to his face. For that, he was grateful. He could something hear them muttering behind his back- but as far as he could tell, they couldn't think of a way to help, so they did nothing. Benvolio was grateful they didn't do anything, like tell any certain adults, about his problems. If he actually had to start explaining them, explaining how he _wasn't_ from England, but rather Italy, and was born over 500 years ago…

Well, he was just grateful. After that, he paid special attention to his attitude so that nothing like that would ever happen again. The incident faded from memory like a spot of ink being forcefully blotted up. Eventually it was blown away by a new discovery.

Jake sat down at their lunch table one day, across from his two friends, and sighed heavily. This was not unusual in itself, but he had been doing this for at least the last week or so straight. Perhaps longer, if he had been doing it before in caught Benvolio's attention. However, today was the day Ben decided that enough was enough and he didn't travel hundreds of years into the future just to not know about things until it was too late _again._

When Jake sighed today, his eyes staring pensively into the air behind his friend's head, he snapped. "What is the problem?" Ben quipped. "All you ever do it mope around anymore."

Jake avoided his eyes. "Sorry. It's nothing. It's all the stupid homework. It's the weather. None of the snow ever sticks. We're not going to get a white Christmas at this rate."

Benvolio shuddered to himself- snow on _Christmas,_ how awful- but pressed his point. "It's not any of those things. Tell me."

"It's _nothing."_

Matt, noticing their exchange, threw a wink at Benvolio and mouthed _leave it to me. _Ben raised an eyebrow, apprehensive as to what would follow.

Jake wanting to change the subject, asked with a fake cheeriness, "so has either of you two seen any good movies lately?"

Matt rested his head in his hand, sighed dreamily at Jake, and batted his eyes. "What?" he breathed. "I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention. I was focused on crushing on some obscure girl."

Jake flushed. "Stop it, Matt."

Matt sighed again and started running a hand through his hair over and over. "Oh miss obscurity; please bother to glance in my direction so I may-"

"She's not obscure." Jake snapped. "And don't do that!"

Matt laughed at his own tactics, while Ben struggled to hide a smirk from Jake's death glare. Matt, still chuckling, said, "So there _is _a girl. Tell me, how big is-"

Jake stood up abruptly from the table, grabbing his food. "That's it. I don't need to put up with this. There are so many other people I could be hanging out with right now."

Matt's face darkened suddenly. Benvolio's eyes widened and he took another bite of his sandwich to hide his reaction to the suddenly much tenser mood. "There are fewer than you think."

"What do you mean?" Jake shot back. "I have Adam or Bailey or I could go find Logan, to name a few."

"Dude, listen to yourself," Matt hissed. "Those three names. Adam, who's been a Mient as long as anyone can remember. Bailey's some freshman who idolizes you-"

"He's a good kid!"

"I'm not saying he isn't, but he also hangs out with Adam and his friends a lot. And who's Adam's best friend?"

Jake bit his lip before casting his eyes away and replying, "Logan."

"Yeah, Logan Miento. The leader of your little group," reproved Matt. "I know he used to tutor you way back in the day, and you're still close. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I can take care of myself!"

"Yes, but can you take care of all these people?" Matt replied, dangerously close to shouting. He gestured to the entire group of lunch tables that sat behind their own. "When Logan graduates, you're it, buddy. You're going to be the new leader of all these Mients here, all the kids who came here because they like the way you do things. You're the one who's going to make sure that the Katts don't bully anyone or starting taking over the sports teams or the marching band or whatever stupid scheme they have. Everyone is going to be looking to you."

"Matt, you're overreacting."

"I'm not!" Ben was surprised by the venom in those words. He took a few large gulps of his water, so he wouldn't have to talk- as he thought about the situation. He barely followed with all of those names, but whatever it was, it wasn't his fight, anyways. "I'm not overreacting, Jake! My own cousin Patrick won't even look at me any more, because he hangs out with the Katts and I spend day over here with you. My brother won't acknowledge the problem, and our own senior president Estella- Patrick's twin sister, mind you- can barely keep the peace. My family is the perfect example of not siding with or against these two little groups you got going here. So don't tell me I'm overreacting when I can see something's coming."

"Matt," Jake hissed, "I was always a Mient and you've always know that. Why are you yelling at me now?"

Matt ran a hand through his hair and sighed, although this time, he was not teasing. "I don't know," he said. "I just have this bad feeling, that's all. Last time you had a crush this bad you got in a knife fight, remember? That's not going to happen again."

Benvolio choked on the water he was drinking, nearly spewing it all across the table. "What? Jake was in a knife fight? He's awful at fighting!"

The two of them both jumped a little, as if they'd forgotten Ben was there. They exchanged a guilty glance at each of before Jake said, "It was nothing."

There was a huge splashing noise, followed by Jake doing an impression of a fish out of water. Matt did a double take. He couldn't believe Ben, who had always seemed so laid back, had actually dumped his entire water bottle on Jake's head. This could be interesting.

"Ben!" Jake screamed as soon as he had shaken enough water out of his eyes to see. "What the heck was that for?" If the huge splash hadn't caught the entire cafeteria's attention, his voice certainly had.

"Oops," Ben said calmly, screwing the cap back on his empty water bottle. "My arm just got tired of not soaking you."

Jake crossed his arms and gave his house-guest a death glare. "And _why_ do you suppose you let it get tired?"

"I don't know," Ben replied coldly, sarcasm trickling off every sound, "_Maybe_ it was because _somebody_ won't tell me a damn _thing_about your stupid part against the dang Katts."

"What did you call me?" Somebody's voice raged in the background, but neither Ben nor Jake was paying attention. If looks could kill, then the Lapet house would have two empty beds that night.

"Maybe the certain _someone_ doesn't want to drag you into his problems!" Jake snarled back.

"Too late, Jake." Ben replied. He felt some of his anger towards his friend drain away, but the tension in his body remained. "Nice try, but you're too late. No, don't argue, I'm older than you. You invited in me into your house, so your problems are my problems. I'm as much a Mient as you are."

Jake opened his mouth to protest. "But-"

"Good," a voice growled from behind him. Benvolio let out an _oof_ when a fist collided with his side, knocking him to the floor. "Then I really don't have any problems about doing that."

Ben looked up to find the looming figure of Tyler whateverhislastnamewas –who was distinctly a Katt- towering over him. "Brute," he spat, rolling up and back onto his feet in time to avoid a kick. He could feel Matt and Jake rising to help behind him, but he waved a hand for them to sit back down. "Back off, you two. Let me show you how it's done."

Tyler laughed. "Look, kid, maybe because you're new I'll let you keep that corpse of yours in one piece."

Benvolio's hand flew to his waist, ready to run the boy through. Wait. There was nothing there. They didn't wear swords in this stupid time. How were they supposed to fight without swords?

Tyler took the opportunity to launch himself and Ben, who ducked out of the way by jumping nimbly on top of a lunch table. "What's the matter, Mint boy?" Tyler drawled out. "I thought you wanted a fight."

Benvolio got down off the table slowly, grabbing his weapons of choice and hiding it behind his back as he leisurely walked towards the enemy. "Well, I would fight you, if you weren't such a mess."

Tyler's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

The school should really sell fresher fruit, Benvolio thought as he flung all three of the very badly bruised peaches at the enemy. They exploded all over him, creating as huge a mess as he could have imagined. The Mients in the cafeteria started to laugh, while a bunch of people Jake had also vaguely labeled "Bad News" on the other side of the room seemed to tense up even more.

"What do you have to day for yourself?" Ben asked calmly, nudging a peach pit away from him with the toe of his shoe. The air stank with fruit-sugar. "Well, I guess you can't help it. You and your whole stupid clan of Katts are disgusting."

He used his talents of fading away as the entire cafeteria broke into havoc. A great, big, chaotic havoc consisting of wrestling matches and food fights. There would be so much trouble for him later. Maybe he should just go turn himself in to the principal now.

But now, maybe, Jake might finally trust him. Now, maybe, he could know the exact truth.


	15. Constant Comrades

A/N: Here's the new chapter! Sorry to keep you waiting. Volleyball camp this week was exhausting. Lotsa friendly banter in this one. ;) And a little bit more about our dear trio's feelings, because we all love those. Enjoy!

* * *

One week of detention. Things could have gone a whole lot worse, but Ben had managed to wriggle his way out of most of the blame because he was an exchange student and most of the school's staff had taken a liking to him. He had some quality about him, they all said. A certain type of maturity.

The fact that Tyler was a known troublemaker helped too. Ben wasn't exactly sure what punishment he had gotten, but it must have been loads more than his. Stupid boy was a Katt, though, so he deserved it. He was on the wrong side.

Mrs. Lapet had to pick him up from his after-school meeting with the principal and some guidance counselors. She didn't comment on anything about him being in trouble, only small talk about the weather. When they arrived at home, Ben was barely surprised to find Jake and Matt looking for him on the couch.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked him, seeing the look on Ben's face when Ben sat down on a chair across from them. "You look like you've just eaten a thong."

Ben and Jake both physically shuddered, glanced at each other, and silently decided they were going to erase the last few seconds of their lives from their memories.

"You didn't get expelled or anything, did you?" Jake continued.

"No, of course not." Ben sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just a detention every day after school next week. No, I was just wondering when I'd begun to think of your house as home."

Matt's face lit up. "So you _are_ homesick! We knew it! Me and Jake totally-"

Jake elbowed Matt forcefully in the stomach, knocking the wind out of his friend causing him to double over. Ben wondered how they possibly could have become friends before he had come along. Hopefully there hadn't been as much physical shushing of each other.

"Ben," Jake said seriously, calling him back down to earth. "While I'm here, you'll always be welcome in my house. Don't be afraid to call it home. In fact, consider it yours." Benvolio felt his mouth open in surprise. His voice was starting to sound dangerously like Romeo's, back when his friend had promised something similar. That had been half a lifetime ago. Jake still continued, unaware of his friend's traveling mind while his own remained on his thoughts, ever growing in intensity. Jake leapt to his feet. "Forget about returning to England. You can stay as long as you like. Forget about the semester thing. All year. Senior year, too. You can graduate here-"

"Jake Lapet," Matt spoke, tugging on his friend's sleeve. Jake looked down at him, confused, as if he couldn't remember getting to his feet. "Calm down. Deep breaths. Peace."

Jake blushed a little and sat back down. "Sorry," he said, gazing at the floor before his eye's flicked up to Ben's face. "I know you have a life back at your home, and this isn't it. I just… I mean, I know I haven't known you for very long, but I…I have this feeling…"

"It's that you belong here," Matt finished for him quietly. He ignored the two set of eyes on him, both slightly surprised at his serious tone of voice. Matt had never sounded this serious, as long as Benvolio had known him. "It's that before you were here, something was missing. Like it was always meant to be the three of us." His face twitched in a half smile before he looked up to meet the surprised stares. "I know, I sound like a dumb gypsy fortune cookie or something."

"That makes two of us," Jake agreed. The room fell into silence as both of them waited for Ben to reply. He didn't.

Moments stretched into minutes as Ben thought, the passing of time only marked by the loud ticking of the clock on the wall. Tick…tick….

Time passes by. As slow or fast as it may seem to be going, that's the only thing you can ever count on it doing. Time will pass. Some say that time washes away things, heals things; by now, half a year after Mercutio and Romeo's deaths, time should have healed some of his grief, if that's truly what it did. But apparently some things were above time's abilities. He didn't know why the loss of his friends affected him so much more than even the loss of his mother- or maybe he did.

It was because, when he'd lost his mother, that he'd been so little that he barely knew what death was. That had been the worst, the rudest awakening of his life. The time afterwards was a close second, however. The months of not knowing where he was going to go or what he was to do or who was to feed him the next day- yes, a very close second indeed. When Romeo had finally figured it out, he had demanded of his father that Benvolio was to be taken in as the relative he was. Benvolio had never really been sure of how close Lord Montague and his father were as brothers - apparently not enough to take the cousin in until his son had insisted. And Romeo was, well, Romeo. If he set his mind on something, he usually got it.

_There._ Benvolio wrenched his mind away from old thoughts. That was the reason his heart just dang hurt so much, all the time. It was because he was thinking of them too often. They always were there, hovering around his thoughts. That must be why he was in this time! However he got here, he was here to have a distraction from the tragedy. That was it. That must be it. Maybe as soon as he recovered, he would return to Verona.

Was there really anything to return to?

_Stop it._

"Thank you," Ben finally voiced aloud, in response to Jake and Matt's last comments. "That…really…means a lot to me. You have no idea."

"You mean a lot to us, Ben," Jake responded, quickly and fiercely.

Matt snorted. "Geez, overprotective figure, you're making us sound like parents. No offense, but I don't like you like that."

"Offense taken. You can go chuck your gay insinuations out the window. " Jake crossed his arms and sniffed loudly. "Anyways, I'd rather sound like a parent than a…sea cucumber."

"Sea cucumber? SEA CUCUMBER? Where did you come up with that? And how would you know what a sea cucumber sounds like?"

"Dude, who doesn't know what a sea cucumber sounds like?"

"You're sprouting off nonsense now. I'm going to disown you."

"You can't disown me. We're not related."

"Hey, for all you know, we could be step third cousins in-law twice removed."

"Matt?"

"Yyyyeeeesss?"

"Shut up."

"That's what you always say when you can't come up with a good comeback."

"That last comment didn't deserve a good comeback."

"Oh, but the lousy one was just up and raring to go?"

"Guys?" Ben asked. Jake and Ben froze in their positions like guilty children. "Can I ask you something? And get a straight answer."

"Shoot," Matt said immediately, his gaze instantly turning from an annoyed look at Jake to open wide at Ben. "Anything."

Jake sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and seemed to realize that the battle was lost. He slumped back deep into the couch. "Yeah. I guess. You deserve it. The thing is, I didn't want to tell you about anything before because I didn't want you to have to deal with all my crap."

"Jake," said Matt, "Not even I know about all your crap. I have several theories that you actually have loads more crap than anyone else will ever find out, simply because there is so much of it. If someone else were actually to come in contact with it than their head would simply explode because-"

"I want you to explain what happened between you and the Katts last year," Ben interrupted.

Jake shrugged. "Nothing."

"But…but…you just said! Tell the truth, dam-"

"It was freshman year." Jake continued, stopping Ben's angry rampage in its tracks.

"We all thought we were so cool," added Matt. "High school and everything. Of course, I was and still am so cool, but they only thought they were. There was a-"

"And it-"

"Tyler's brother…he graduated the year before we were in high school-"

"His girlfriend was a senior-"

"She was a bi-"

"Huge fight with Logan-"

"He caught her cheating-"

"And then I was stupid enough to make some nasty comment to Tyler about the whole thing," Jake concluded. Ben bit his lip, rubbing the arm of his chair with his thumb. The rough cloth scraped against his fingertip. "I don't remember what exactly I said."

"Neither does me," said Matt. "It wasn't funny enough to remember. Then again, most of the words out of your mouth aren't."

"He got real mad, though." Jake continued as if he hadn't heard his friend.

Matt smiled at the memory. "His face was as red as a tomato."

"It was bad." Jake responded somberly, and for once, Matt frowned with him. "It got really intense. It was the worst I've ever been in."

"The knives?" Ben asked.

They both shrugged. "There was a crowd there. Somebody just handed me on." Jake said. His voice was flat.

After a few more moments, Ben relented on his interrogation, his mind satisfied with the situation. "Well, as long as Tybalt and you didn't murder anyone, than you're perfectly fine now."

"Tyler," Jake corrected.

"Huh?"

"Neither Tyler nor I murdered anybody."

"That's what I said," Ben answered, shooting his comrades a confused look.

Jake and Matt exchanged a glance and sighed. "I think the American school is getting to him," Matt moaned. "I should have seen it coming. English is driving him insane."

"What?" Ben asked indignantly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing." Jake answered with a smirk. "It's nothing."

"You called Tyler, Tybalt," Matt answered. Ben's face melted into a pool of horror. "Yes, we know, you hate _Romeo and Juliet_. Spare us the rant, please. I think it must be getting to you."

"I called….?"

"Yeah, Ben."

Benvolio put a hand to his own forehead. "I think I am getting sick."

"It's the American school, man."

"Matt, you've never been to a not-American school."

"So what, Jake?"

"So….so….just shut up."

They continued talking as Ben got up and started walking back towards his room. He wasn't joking about the sick part; with every step, the pounding sensation in his head got worse and worse. His breath felt unusually warm in his mouth.

One...more…step…

Benvolio collapsed on the bed the Lapets had given him, wanting to close his eyes and go to sleep and let it all just fade away. His eyelids were drooping already…

_Ow._

Benvolio raised his right arm into his field of vision, pulling back his sleeve so he could see his skin. The last thing he remembered before coming to this "modern" America was fainting on his bed back in Montague mansion. That was also the last time he had an injury to his arm. It was painful to think back on that memory; to tell the truth, everything was a bit of a blur. The friar had thought he was the ghost of dead Romeo…he had fallen onto the vials filled with mixtures.

When he had woken up on the plane, he had no wound on his arm at all. Now he could just barely make out a thin white scar on his skin, running from his elbow to his wrist. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was glowing blue. The same blue that had been in one of the glasses he had broken.

_I must be dreaming…_

Benvolio Montague closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	16. LongStanding Lesion

A/N: This one was fun to write. I hope you guys like it as much as I did, even if it is a little shorter than usual. I'll update sooner this time, I promise. If you have any opinions of where you'd like the story to go, be my guest to reveiw, and thanks again to the people who already have!

~Bananna

* * *

"Ben? Ben, wake up. It's time for dinner."

"Itsa too soon fo dinna."

"Can I hit him with a pillow?" Matt piped up, one already in his hands.

Jake sighed and ran a hand through his air. Only Matt would have already found the largest pillow in the house. "Be my –whoa."

"Be my whoa?"

"Look here." Jake ordered. Ben, who had always been a heavy sleeper, was only just starting to make faces at the thought of being woken up from his nap. He didn't notice as Jake grabbed his right upper limb and traced the faint white line running down the forearm. "Ben, what's this?"

"It's a scar." Matt answered helpfully. Jake rolled his eyes.

"I know it's a scar. It's a huge scar. Why haven't we noticed this before?"

"Latgominearm." Ben mumbled, pulling his hands back towards him and rolling over, away from the two very loud distractions making it near impossible to fall back asleep.

"I don't know why we didn't notice it, Jake." Matt answered sarcastically, scratching his blond head in puzzlement. "Maybe it's because I usually don't go around giving my best friends full body inspections."

"I wasn't asking you." Jake retorted hotly. "Anyways, don't you think _I'd_ have noticed? His is nearly identical to mine!"

"Your what?" came a muffled voice from the bed. Jake and Matt froze in their argument, catching each other's eye and grinning.

"If you get out of bed I'll tell you," Jake said, a grin breaking out over his face. Matt snickered, completely amused as he looked at Ben's back. There was obviously a heavy internal war going on between his desire to stay in bed and his curiosity of what Jake was talking about. With a groan he sat up, stretched, and turned around, glaring at both of them.

"Dinner's ready," Jake whispered, turning at fleeing down the stairs. Matt ran after him, laughing. Those two thought they were so funny.

Benvolio thumped down the stairs, shaking himself a little more awake as so to be proper in front of Jake's parents. He entered the kitchen quietly, smiling at the adults before turning and giving the other two a dirty look.

Matt rolled his eyes at this. "Ben, you are such a suck-up. No wonder all the grown-ups love you. You never show them your ugly side."

"They don't threaten me with dangerous weapons while I'm waking up from a nap. Could I please have some vegetables, Mrs. Lapet? They smell lovely."

"Yeah, yeah, a pillow sure classifies as a dangerous weapon." Matt grumbled, tucking into his own chicken.

"You looked ready to kill me!"

"You aren't exactly the easiest person to wake, Ben." Jake commented dryly. "Can I see the vegetables next, Mom?"

"I can't believe you guys actually eat those things." Matt muttered. "Vegetables. What next, radioactive bugs? No offense, Mr. and Mrs. Lapet. Thank you for letting me stay for dinner."

Jake's parents exchanged a smile, not bothered in the least by Matt's rambling jokes after many, many years of experience. "It's fine, dear," Jake's mother said. "Anytime."

"Anyways," Ben said, cutting up his meat, "Your what is nearly identical to mine?" Jake's parents were still listening curiously, but he paid them no attention. It wasn't as if he had anything more to hide from them than from the rest of them.

"Your scar!" Jake exclaimed. "Look!" He pulled back his own sleeve, on his left arm, and held it out over the table for Ben to see. There was a white line trailing down his forearm also, although it seemed thicker, somehow. Benvolio knew nothing about medical workings, his aversion to blood being one of the primary reasons, but it seemed like Jake had definitely come off with the worse deal.

"Ben, you have a similar scar?" Mr. Lapet asked curiously. In response, Ben pulled up his own sleeve and thrust his arm out so that it was next to Jake's. Ben's scar was as thin as a spider web compared to white vein on Jake's arm. He'd never noticed it before – not, as Matt had pointed out earlier, that he had been looking for it.

"How'd you get yours?" Jake asked curiously.

Benvolio flushed a little. "I…um…fell on a piece of glass," he mumbled. The words felt heavy coming out of his mouth. They would know he was lying. Liar, liar, he thinks he's 700 years old, what a weirdo. He could hear the voices in his head. He was lying. He had no idea why that scar had suddenly appeared- just that it was freakishly similar to the last wound he had collected in Verona.

No one called him out on it. Matt just smirked at what he took to be Ben's embarrassment and said, "No need to be ashamed, Ben. Jake's not exactly a cut above average on the clumsy meter either."

Jake raised an eyebrow at Matt. "What are you getting at?"

"What, do you want me to cut it out?"

Jake rolled his eyes in response, giving Ben the opportunity to ask, "Where'd yours come from?"

"Well…" Jake replied slowly, lowering his gaze so he wouldn't have to make eye contact with anyone.

"Cut to the chase, mate," Matt said, a huge smile spreading across his face. "The way you're acting, you could cut the atmosphere in here _with a knife_."

Jake turned around to glare at him. "You just think that you're so funny."

"Do you want me to cut the comedy?" Matt asked teasingly. "And yes, I do. I'm too funny for words."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Wait. I thought you said that nobody got hurt from the knife fight."

Matt threw back his head and laughed out loud. "Finally, Ben. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"I said nobody got killed," Jake replied. "And, anyways, I didn't want you to freak out."

"Didn't want me to…" Benvolio muttered. "Ay me. And for the record, Matt, I am the smart one. I was just waiting to see when your wit would run out."

Conversation eventually faded back into more comfortable topics. Nobody really expected him to participate all that much (he _was _the quiet one, after all) and that gave him a chance to examine the scratch mark again. He remembered from earlier, when it had glowed blue, the same blue as one of the potions he had fallen it. As soon as he had collected this injury in Verona, his time there was numbered. Was the scar a warning that he would have to leave here, soon, too?

Benvolio shook his head. Nonsense. He didn't want to go back to Verona. He had everything he possibly could ever want right here. A home, a family, a cousin and his best friend.

_Stop it. Jake is not your cousin. This is not your home or your family. Don't get too comfortable here. For all you know, this still is a dream. Don't make reality hurt even more when you have to go back._


	17. Twisted Truth

A/N: Sorry for the wait, for I hope you'll think it's worth it. One of the scenes we've all been waiting for. Sorry for the awkward ending. I'll try to have more up soon. Reviews are nice. =)

I do not own _Romeo and Juliet_.

* * *

That night at dinner was one of the last good conversations he'd had with Jake for a while. A week later (when he didn't have detentions as punishment for the food fight anymore, thank goodness) Benvolio was downright concerned. All Jake ever did was sigh and mope and then say it was nothing.

Benvolio hated that phrase with a passion. If it was nothing, than it wouldn't be there. It wouldn't be anywhere, because there was _no thing._ But since Ben had noticed something, than a thing was there, so it couldn't be nothing. Not in the least.

He was walking down the hallway at school, brooding over this. The first bell of the day had yet to ring – he still had about 10 minutes until class started. Looking up as he turned a corner, he saw Adam and Bailey (they were better friends with Jake than with him, but still, he knew them) standing in the hallway with their backs to him. They seemed to be arguing violently with a couple of other guys. He vaguely recognized them – Sam and Greg, two of Tyler's thugs. Greg's eyes widened at the sight of him, and he nudged Sam and muttered something.

Something dropped in the pit of his stomach. Ignoring it, Benvolio brushed his brown curls out of his face and stopped to get a drink out of the water fountain. When he stood back up again and eyed then scene, both Sam and Greg had tackled Adam to the ground. Bailey, poor freshman, was trying to get one of them off, but in vain.

Benvolio strode over too them. He managed to send one of them rolling away with a harsh kick to the stomach, but the other was more resistant. Ben grabbed the collar of his shirt and heaved him off, giving Adam room to sit up and breathe. He looked down disgustedly at Greg, the one in his hands.

"You idiots!" He yelled, at Greg and Sam on the floor. He shook Greg roughly a little before pushing him down also. "You honestly have no idea what you're doing. Now quit looking for trouble." His face darkened as he glared down at them, lying on the floor as if unsure of how they got there. "Trust me; it's not all that it's cracked up to be."

He stiffened when he heard a bawdier voice behind him. "Kicking a man while he's down and then telling them to be good? You've got nerve, Minty. Turn around and look trouble in the face."

Benvolio sighed and spun. It was Tyler, of course, behind him, standing and glaring daggers with his hands clenched in fists by his sides.

Ben narrowed his eyes. "Nobody needs another fight, as much as you hate to hear it. Now, I know you're the prince of cat fights, but either stop pretending you're going to punch somebody, or punch whoever disturbs the peace next."

Tyler laughed hauntingly. "Disturbs the peace next? Who do you think you are, a judge? There's no such thing as peace. I hate that word." His muscles tightened as his voice dropped to a growl. "I hate that word as much I hate you liars who talk about it, all of your Mient friends-" he took another step forwards to hiss into Ben's face "-and as much as I hate you. Stand up and fight, coward."

Benvolio ducked as a punch came flying his way. He tried to trip Tyler, but as the beast fell he pulled Ben down with him. Now they were both on the floor.

_I never thought I'd say this_, thought Ben remembering all of the hated fencing classes he'd been forced to go to by his uncle, _but I miss my sword_.

He continued scrabbling on the ground with Tyler, bumping into many pairs of legs gathered around them, until he heard the yell. It was the shout of one who was in power, and they knew it, too.

"STOP!" a female voice screamed. Everyone froze – well most everyone. Ben was awarded a punch in the face for his lack of focus. He rolled with it, landing on his knees, eyes focused on Tyler's face. That dishonorable bas-

A pair of legs filled his vision, and he looked up to find a girl glaring at them. "Not another move," she hissed, "or I will see you expelled." Her light hair was pulled back in a loose bun, and that coupled with her hands on her hips made for a very imposing figure. He might have been taller than her, if he'd been standing, but he didn't dare try to rise. Tyler, on her other side, hadn't twitched a muscle.

As she continued speaking, Benvolio was able to identify her. Estella, Matt's cousin. The princess of the student body, or whatever the rulers were known as these days.

"This is the third _brawl_ I've seen," she hissed. Ben looked around. Absorbed as he had been with his out fistfight with Tyler, he hadn't noticed that the majority of the school was crammed in that one hallway, watching or partaking in the violence. His stomach tightened. How was he in the middle of things again? He hated conflict.

"And they've all been caused by a couple of stupid words and your apparent need for brutality," She continued. "Yeah, you Katts and Mients. And you've had to drag everybody else into your stupid…_feud_. If this happens again, all of your two groups are going to pay. Linc-" she pointed to a tall senior standing with his arms crossed behind Tyler "-come with me. Logan," she said, whirling to the leader of the Mients. With a jolt, Ben realized Logan was standing right behind, mimicking Linc's stance and sending a look of utter hatred across the way. "Logan, I'm going to find you later," she said.

Eyes narrowed, surveying the entire crowd of kids watching her. "The rest of you better scram, and I mean it. Unless you want ridiculous class dues this year, get out of here."

Everyone, slowly but surely, did as she demanded. Ben made a face to himself as she turned away. Rulers were rulers, no matter where they went. He was having the oddest sense of déjà vu.

"Here," Logan said to him, offering his hand to help pull Ben up. Ben accepted it grateful, staggering to his feet. He would have bruises the next morning, that was for sure. "You ok?" Logan asked. "What happened? How did another row get started?"

They started walking down the hall, side by side. Ben hadn't really spoken to Logan much, despite the fact that Jake had introduced them several times. Logan had even been over to the Lapet's house once. He and Jake had talked while Ben did Latin homework, his best subject. Now he found himself explaining how Sam and Greg were double-teaming Adam, and how Tyler had come and messed everything up, _again_…

Logan was a great listener. When they stopped at Ben's locker for him to get out his stuff, he leaned against the wall, honestly deep in thought.

"Well, at least Jake wasn't there," Ben said halfheartedly, tugging at his locker door. "He would have been even more pissed off at me."

"On the subject of Jake," Logan mentioned, rubbing his forehead, "Have you seen him today? He's been acting strange lately."

Ben shook his head. "He disappeared as soon as we got off the bus. Even in the mornings, I can hear him getting up super early. I had trouble sleeping last night, so I got up too and went downstairs to have breakfast. When he saw me, he bolted."

Logan sighed again. "Yeah, when he was younger and something was bothering him, he'd always go out in the godforsaken hours of the morning. I'd thought he'd stop, but…" Logan shrugged helplessly.

"Do you know what's bugging him this time?" Ben asked, pulling out his books.

"I don't know, and he won't tell me." Logan admitted. "You guys are really good friends. Can you try to find out?"

"Yeah," Ben sighed, shutting his locker. Logan smiled at patted him on the back. "Look," Benvolio indicated with his head somewhere off into the distance. "He's coming this why. Shall I try now?"

"Why not?" Logan asked, smiling. "You're a good kid, Ben. Good luck." He started walking away, tapping Jake on the shoulder and trying to say hello as he passed. Jake nodded politely, but slipped away from him quickly. Benvolio hurried to fall into step beside him.

"Good morning," Ben said to him cheerfully, trying to figure out the best way to walk without putting too much stress on the ankle Tyler had kicked. Fighting in this time was so much more painful. Maybe a little less deadly, but loads more painful.

Jake shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and sighed again. "Is it morning still?"

"Yes."

"Feels like forever," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes. Ben had to strain his ears to pick up the words.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Why is that?"

"Well…" he sighed again ruefully. "Because I don't have what makes time go faster."

Benvolio frowned at his riddle. Some sort of alarm was going off in the back of his head, but he ignored it, choosing to concentrate on the problem at hand. He had seen this sort of thing before. That was it. The sighing, the moping, the walks, the self-pity, it was all what Romeo had done when he'd been…

"You're in love!" he exclaimed to Jake. A ferocious blush spread across his friend's face. There was definitely something horrible going on. He'd seen this before. He'd been here before, having this exact same conversation with-

Ben's heart dropped like a stone. Jake was –no, he couldn't be- but he was, another walking, breathing Romeo. This was why there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Crap.

"Knock off it," Jake replied feebly. "Of course no-"

Benvolio stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, grabbing Jake's wrist. People were giving them funny looks, but he ignored it. "Please tell me you haven't spoken to her yet." He couldn't have. Once he'd talked to her, than everything would have started again.

Jake tugged his arm out of Ben's grip. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly, turning to walk away again.

"No! Stay here!" Benvolio ordered, grabbing his shoulder this time and whirling him around again. Jake gave him a withering look. "Oh, no. You have talked to her."

"What are you _talking_ about, dude? It's like you've gone mad."

"But she doesn't want a boyfriend," Ben continued, almost talking to himself. There was no way this could be a coincidence.

"Shut up, Ben!" Jake snapped. "Go away."

"Who is it?"

Jake froze at this demand, too rough to have come from the quiet friend he was used to. Ben could see his brain working, assuming that Jake was coming up with a way to avoid his question. He did not disappoint. "Well, if I have to tell you….she's a girl."

Ben snorted in amusement, ignoring a small pang in his heart as he remembered a previous conversation of similar content. "I'd guessed that already."

"Well, good, so I've got to go-"

Benvolio remained rooted to the spot and didn't let Jake get away, either. "Oh my gosh…" he said, eyes widening as he realized everything. The feud…the people…the fights…the similarities… there was a girl who hung out with the Katts. Not closely affiliated, but…. "It's Rosie Parker! It is, isn't it? Oh, no. Not good."

"Ben!" Jake hissed, grabbing his friend by the collar and dragging him away into the doorway of a deserted classroom. "Shout it too the world, will you? Or better yet, write a book to sell all over the world!"

"Or a play…" he muttered dazedly. This was like a re-embodiment of everything that had happened to him! Why? Why was he here? What the heck was happening? And if Jake and Matt really were different versions of Romeo and Mercutio, than where in the world was the little version of him! Somebody was supposed to talk those two, calm them down, and take Tybalt's anger…

His jaw clenched. _He _had been doing that. Again, without even realizing it. Tyler, Tybalt…their names even sounded the same. Benvolio Montague….Ben Mantahue… His fists clenched protectively. There was no way on earth he was going to let everything get screwed up again.

There was no way he would ever let his friends die a second time. Through hell or high water.

"A play…" Jake muttered, rolling his eyes. Ben blinked, dropping back into reality. Or dream-reality…was this still a dream? Something his head was coming up with to help him cope? "Look, Ben, we need to get to math class."

"Jake, wait."

His friend –his cousin?- stopped and turned around, eyes hard and wary. Benvolio searched them for reminders of Romeo. Was this bad? Romeo was dead. He had seen him die. How was this… right? How had he been given his two best friends back from the dead? How had he been given a second chance? A second life?

This was a dream, Benvolio decided, after all. That's the only way this could be happening. God wouldn't put him through this. Would He?


	18. Awful Aftermath

A/N: Sorry its been so long! I forgot to warn you all I'd be visiting relatives. On the bright side, no more trips, because school starts in two days. On the downside, homework. But that shouldn't keep me from writing.

So far I've tried to stick with _Romeo and Juliet_ (which I DO NOT OWN, by the way) but from this point on, Ben's life kind of floats away from it. As long as you're not dissapointed with that, the story will continue to be plenty interesting. Lotsa surprises. Enjoy!

* * *

"There is no way on earth," Benvolio announced to his cousin (no, not his cousin, Benvolio berated himself, his host student) both of them still standing in the hallway of the school, waiting to go to their first class, "that you are going to crash any Katt parties tonight."

Jake Lapet blinked and stared at him like he was crazy. Which he might be, considering this whole abysmal situation. "What?"

Benvolio repeated his statement, his mind still reeling with his fresh discovery that everything here was a mimicry of his life in old Verona. That is, his life before the tragedy. His two best friends here, Jake and Matt, were literally shadows of Romeo and Mercutio. His blood ran cold. What if they _were _reincarnations of Romeo and Mercutio?

Stop thinking pagan thoughts, he ordered himself. Of course they're not. This is a dream.

And Jake sounds nothing like Romeo, anyways.

"Why on earth would I want to crash a Katt party?" Jake asked incredulously, dragging his mind back to earth.

"No reason," Ben replied shortly. "Just don't. Especially not without me or Matt."

Jake gave him another weird look, but seemed to decide that now was not the time to argue. He muttered a muted agreement before turning and walking away, leading the way to math class.

Somehow they had managed to keep their seats next to each other throughout the entire year so far. As Ben eased himself down into his chair, taking out his things for class slowly, he could hear the reassuring noises of Jake doing the same. That hadn't changed, at least.

"Ben, you're bleeding."

Benvolio looked down to his elbow, not surprised to find a scrape there, probably from sometime during his scuffle with Tybalt. "Oh, that. Tis nothing."

"How'd that happen?"

"This morning," Ben answered, avoiding the question. He knew that Jake would demand more information soon, but he really didn't want to talk about it any more.

"You weren't in another fight, were you?"

Ben bit his lip and looked down, trying to think of something say, but when he raised his eyes again, he still didn't have a good explanation. It turned out he didn't need one. Jake cut him off before he could even open his mouth.

"No, don't tell me," Jake decided, holding up his hand to stop Ben's words. His eyes were distant. "You're going to say because it comes back to the fact that you hate the Katts. But you know what?" He turned very angry very suddenly. "It's because you all love fighting so much."

Benvolio was flabbergasted. He was supposed to be the peacemaker! His name sounded like Benevolent, for goodness sake! He hated fighting?

_What if Jake's right?_

"I-I do not!" Ben finally stammered back. He received a disgusted look from his friend in response. "Look here. I do not start fights because I enjoy them."

"Then why do you start them?"

"I _do not_ start fights!" Against all intentions, this came out as a bit of a squawk.

"Could've fooled me," Jake muttered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Benvolio pounded the desktop with his fist. "There's a difference between starting fights and standing up for something."

"So? You were still fighting!"

"At least I was there!" Benvolio yelled, leaping out of his seat. "At least I do more than sit around all day moping!"

Jake rose to his feet and snarled. "Look, British boy-"

"I'm not even-!"

"Mr. Lapet and Mr. Mantahue, would you like to visit the principle's office?" a drawling voice interrupted them.

Ben froze, a blush rising to his face, having forgotten that they were in a classroom surrounded by people. Mr. Hebrews was looking at them from behind his desk, an eyebrow raised. Ben realized how they must look – two teenage boys on their feet, fists clenched and shouting at each other. He'd never felt so much rage before in his life, bleaching out everything else in a haze of red. Nobody had ever caused this, not Tybalt, or Tyler, not even that once when a young Mercutio had decided to take the "mud bath" prank a little too far…

_I do not start fights,_ Benvolio repeated to himself. _I do not. I do not. Romeo did not die for me to keep brawling. _

There were too many questions in his life. Why he was here, how he was here, why everything reminded him of his own life in Verona – was that really less than a year ago?- who his father had been, why there was a scar on his arm that had never been there before, how long would this dream last, if he was just as violent as the enemies he had hated, if this was a dream, why his friends had to die, if he was wrong to make knew ones, if he should try to forget about them, if he should have died with them…

"No, sir," Jake muttered venomously, in answer to the teacher's question. "We would to stay in class." He shot a glance at Ben, who refused to make eye contact. "At least I would."

"Then sit down, both of you," Mr. Hebrews ordered. They both did, stiff as cardboard. When class ended neither of them spoke, letting Matt ramble when he caught up to them for the next class.

Mr. Hebrews had cut Ben off before he could blurt out that there was no way he was from England. There were a few more questions he had forgotten, the ones constantly there, even when all of his other worries were temporarily forgotten.

Why should he bother to keep lying about who he was, if this was only a dream?

And how could he even be friends with Jake and Matt, if all they know of him is a lie? They don't even know his real name.

"Man, what's the matter with you two today?" Matt finally exclaimed, frustrated by the two silent bodies on either side of him. "It's like you've got your tongues cut out." He glanced from Jake to Ben, looking for an answer.

"Ben was in another fight today," Jake snarled, crossing his arms and scowling at the table.

"Yeah, I know. Sure as heck am proud of him, standing up for Adam and Bailey like that."

"So what? He was in another fight!"

"I know! Everybody was there, except for you, apparently! I thought Logan was going to shoot link Linc, didn't you, Ben? Ben?"

"I don't know if Jake wants to share a conversation with somebody so malicious as to help his friends," he answered spitefully, glaring at the person in question.

"And punching a guy in the face helps them how?"

"Shut up, Lapet," Ben sneered, "you would have done the same."

"The same as you? Doubt it."

"Oh yeah, because all you want to do is lock yourself up in a dark room somewhere and-"

DDIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG.

Jake swore loudly, causing several of their classmates to look around, but he wasn't caught by the teacher. Ben almost wished he had been, so he wouldn't have to ignore venomous looks all period. It didn't matter. Class had started.


	19. Suddenly a Struggle

A/N: Hey guys. I'm as impatient to get to the end as you are, so here another chapter! And if anyone noticed, I changed the summary of this a few chapters ago. I hope it didn't throw anyone off. So there are a couple of big events in the chapter. In case you were wondering, Ami's just about as much of an OC as Jake and Matt are. She'll show up later, but she never really becomes a main character.

* * *

It was the first lunch period ever that Ben hadn't spent next to Jake and Matt. Jake had stormed off to eat with other people, like he'd threatened so long ago, and Matt had awkwardly went off to join one of his relatives. Ben was surrounded by people, all perfectly friendly towards him, friends of his friends, but he felt alone.

This was not how things were supposed to work. Back in Verona, he'd never been in a fight with Romeo. He'd been trying to get him to forget about Rosaline the whole time. But then again, Romeo didn't accuse him personally of loving to fight. Romeo knew he hated fighting.

Than what was the matter? It certainly seemed that this time Jake had forgotten about Rosie, and he had accused Ben of wanting to fight. Stupid Jake, not knowing him well enough. Stupid language change, stupid anger management issues…

The awful part about having almost an identical school schedule as someone, about living in their house, is that you can never get away from them. Throughout the entire day Matt tried to bridge the gap between them, but if Jake wouldn't talk to him, then Ben wasn't going to apologize for a mistake he hadn't made. It was worse after school. Jake locked himself in his room, again, while Ben finished his homework a little too quickly for his liking.

He went for a long jog, something that had become a habit of his since coming to this time. The people here didn't walk or get out in the sun nearly as much as he was used too. He was even learning to put up with the thin layer of snow on the ground. It was nearing the end of December, so it was to be expected, after all.

His thoughts followed the same path as his run – in other words, ending up right back where he started. He concluded a few things, not that they actually helped anything:

He knew nothing about anything here, which was quite annoying because he knew quite enough about everything back in Verona. Except…never mind.

Jake must in no way, shape, or form meet any girls. Darn it, now he sounded like any overprotective older brother. But wasn't he just that? An older overprotective cousin from the past, trying to protect someone he cared about from making the same mistakes as some other little cousin he had failed to protect…making him not an overprotective older cousin…never mind.

There was no way he could let Matt or Jake get in a fight with Tyler, because they might do something overboard like Mercutio and Romeo had done. Benvolio could not let them get themselves killed or kill blindly for revenge. So if Tyler came looking for a fight, it would have to be him who did anything about it. This would make Jake even more convinced that he was some violence craving maniac, which he was not. It wasn't like Jake had never been in a fight with the Katts, either. Jake hated the Katts more than he hated fighting with them, even though he really hated fighting with the Katts, but that was a problem. Ben could not let him get in a fight, which meant that if it came down to that, he would have to go the one to do something about Tyler, even though Jake would think…

He shrugged off his extra layers of clothing as he staggered back into the Lapet's house. Clearly, thinking was getting him nowhere. The hard thing was, he wasn't sure what else to do.

He scowled at the bottom of Jake's chair when he entered the kitchen for dinner, aware that his friend was doing something very similar. Stupid Jake. Romeo hadn't picked a fight with him. However, the only thing to feel his wrath was a bit of potato salad that found itself handled a bit more viciously than necessary.

Jake's parents made enough conversation to fill the room, completely oblivious to (or maybe they were just ignoring) the less than friendly atmosphere between the two boys. Ben usually wasn't much of a participant in conversation, anyways. Adults back in Verona never spoke to him so informally, so he really preferred to keep to himself around Jake's parents.

"Oh, and I got another email from Ami today, her plane is coming in at 5:00 rather than six. One less hour until we see her again. It's been so long since she went off to school."

Jake blinked. "Ami is coming home tomorrow? Since when?"

"Since always, dear," his mother answered. "She sounded so excited to get home."

Ben frowned, biting his lip in concentration to see if he could recall anything about that name. "Ami…?"

There was an awkwardly long pause as Jake apparently decided whether or not to answer Ben, as his parents obviously expected him to. "Maybe I called her Amelia in my letters," Jake replied gruffly. "My sister. She's a freshman. She decided to go to a music academy for high school, remember? That's why we got you."

Ben gave Jake a look. "You don't have any siblings."

Jake rolled his eyes in response. "Yeah, okay," he started sarcastically. "Try telling that to Ami."

"But Romeo didn't have-" Ben started, and then hastily cut himself off. The three Lapets all give him an odd look, and he felt a blush rising to his face. "Er, um, I mean-"

Jake narrowed his eyes. "You mean what?"

"I mean, I didn't remember because…of, um…I thought Matt was the one with a sister. Mixed up. Sorry," he finished lamely. Jake's parents turned away, satisfied, but Jake kept staring at him with that unconvinced look.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Ben, how carefully did you read my letters? Back in England?"

"Not carefully enough," Ben replied, avoiding Jake's gaze, preferring to stir food around on his plate instead.

"Did you read them at all?"

Benvolio resisted the urge to flinch at Jake's angry hiss. How was he supposed to answer that? _No, because I never got any of them? I don't know who your letters went to, but it wasn't me?_

"Of course I did," Ben mumbled, still hunched over his food.

"Are you sure?"

"Does it matter?" he snapped back, finally. Why was Jake making him lie? Couldn't he tell this was a touchy subject? What was making him continue?

Jake's face froze in a blank expression. Ben would have given anything to steer his thoughts down a better course than they were surely taking, "So…you didn't read them."

"I never said that."

"You didn't care about where you were going at all!" Jake accused, standing from the table. Ben followed his example, even as Jake took long strides out of the room. His parents didn't notice; Ben and Jake spent most of their time together. Friends generally do.

Benvolio tried to keep his voice calm. One of them had to be the grounded one, and it wasn't going to be Jake. "Look, I do care about-"

"I don't want to hear it, Ben," Jake argued, clenching his fists. "You can stop lying. I think I know what's going on."

It was as if the blood in his veins stopped moving for a moment, trying to move despite this emptiness inside. "You do?" That was impossible. The Romeo comment, surely, it couldn't have been that obvious! What was he thinking? He thought Ben was crazy, thinking he was a character from a play.

No. No, this was Jake, being spoken of. Jake would believe him. All the stress flowed away at that one thought. Maybe now he wouldn't have to hide his true identity anymore, maybe now somebody could help him figure out all the answers to his questions! Maybe, this way, Jake wouldn't have to follow Romeo and die…

"Yes. I do." Jake answered this last question. Ben studied his friend's face. He was livid.

"Look, I'm sorry I lied to you, but I didn't-"

"You didn't care about the people who were excited to have you here, did you?"

Ben blinked, completely losing his train of thought. "What?"

"For lots of kids, being an exchange student is a privilege," Jake huffed. "Hosting one is a privilege. But no. You just wanted to escape from you stupid messed-up home life."

Ben felt his face falling. So Jake hadn't figured out anything. Still didn't know his real name. "That's not true."

"You didn't care where you went!" Jake shouted back at him, eyes squeezed up. "You would have gone anywhere. You didn't think here was special."

"Jake, I-"

"And that's why you were so unprepared, why you didn't bloody know ANYTHING!" Jake seized a pillow off of one of the couch and hurled in at the wall, where in made a pretty large noise for a pillow. His voice shook ever so slightly. "I thought… you cared. About something. About here. About us. But no! All you ever do is think about your old home and where you came from! That's why you're so blasted quiet!"

"You've got this wrong-"

"You're just here so you don't have to deal with your problems anymore." Jake said again, his voice slowing. Somehow that didn't make Ben feel any better. "Instead, you…you had to go make problems here instead."

"Don't you go dragging that into this now."

"And why the heck shouldn't I?"

"I don't go looking for fights-"

"I'm not still going on about the stupid fight thing!"

"Then what are you going on about?" Ben yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "Tell me. Please. Because I honestly have no clue."

Jake had his back to him. He was taking deep breaths. One, after another after another. Trying to piece together what had just happened. "I thought you liked it here because of us. I thought you liked us for us. Not just because we distracted you from thinking about your dead friends."

Ben opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out, because…Jake was right.

"I've never gotten so close to anyone so quickly," Jake admitted. Ben could sense the pain he was feeling on the inside, but he couldn't offer comfort, couldn't anything, because it was his fault. "Especially with the feud thing. People were either my friend or my enemy. And "friends" weren't really friends- they just stayed with whoever wouldn't get them beat up. Matt was really the only one, though all the years, that was always there."

His voice was heavy with tears. "People were always judging you. Look, it's the Mient boy. Look, he's so full of hate. Look, if we can bring him down, then the Katts can finally get all the power. Let's stab him in the back. I didn't want Ami to have to go through that. It only gets worse in high school. So I urged her to go, go where nobody knows her as whose family she's from. And she really does have a beautiful voice."

"Having you was Dad's idea. They were anxious about sending Ami away. They needed another kid around the house. I figured you'd be here for a semester and then be gone. Just another kid. Not even a school year. You didn't have to get involved with anything. You're the new kid. They'd cut you some slack."

"But…you were different than I'd thought you'd be. You kept to yourself in the wrong times, and butted in with the others. You only laughed at Matt's worst jokes, never the good ones, and you made him feel clever. You gave us things to talk about without ever really talking. You wanted to know everything about us, and then when you heard about all the faults you ignored them. You didn't let me or Matt do anything stupid. Instead, you'd do them yourself. You made my problems your problems."

Jake swallowed. "And all the while, I thought you were doing that because you cared about us. Not because you needed to cause somebody else problems so you could run away from you own."

"Jake, that's not-"

"Go away!" he ordered, still refusing to turn around and see him friend. "I've had enough of you!"

"Please, let me-"

"You're only here for one more month," Jake whispered, finally looking back over his shoulder. The look in his eyes shut Benvolio up faster than words ever could. "Keep out of my way until then, would you?"

Ben's mouth opened, but no words came out. He nodded grimly once, before turning on his heel and rushing out of the room.

He collapsed angrily on his bed upstairs, his head in his hands. How had he managed to completely go and botch everything up this time? Wasn't this supposed to be the second chance? The one to put things right?

_Romeo. Jake. Mercutio. Matt. I've failed you all. _

He opened his eyes to look out the window at the cold, uncomforting snow outside. To his surprise, it wasn't the only thing lighting up the room. The scar on his arm was faintly glowing that electric blue again.

_Not this too. Don't I have enough problems?_ To block the sight from his eyes, he covered his face with his pillow and flopped back onto the sheets.

_There's too much to think about._


	20. Companion's Comprehension

A/N: I hope you like the chapter. Nice and long and everything- it's one of the more serioues chapters of the story. Before you start saying, 'this is way too OOC for Matt,' read on. It is justified. Oh, and for the swear words, you can use your imagination. Just felt like Ben, being the Catholic that he is, would try to avoid thinking like that. I'll try to update again this weekend. Till then,

~Bananna

* * *

It was the worst day of school he'd ever been to. Ben had barely spoken to anyone all day. He blew off any sort of paying attention for favor of brooding silently- except for that once in math class when he'd snapped at Sabrina (the Katt girl) when she'd made a comment about his "funny English accent." Now he had a detention after school from Mr. Hebrews again. Great.

Stupid schoolteacher.

It seemed Matt had gotten fed up with him and Jake, too. He'd made one final attempt to get a response out of the two of them, and when that didn't work, he'd finally lost all of his patience. He'd screamed at them, demanded to know what the heck was up, what the fudge was happening to his best dang friends, shoot, why did they have to turn flipping insane, why couldn't they let him fix the dang problem instead of this dark glaring stuff, and they could just fudge off until they got some sense knocked into their flipping skulls. Preferably from that buffoon Tyler.

Okay, so maybe his words had been a _little_ more…crude, but Ben didn't remember. Or care. It was just another person he had let down.

The teachers noticed that, unfortunately. Matt also ended up with detention.

For a punishment they both had to copy the school's behavior policy twice on white lined paper. It was torture to be in there, doing boring busywork while the heater rattled annoying behind them.

When their hour and a half was up, they both rushed out of the room as quickly as possible. Benvolio found his place next to Matt and shared a smile with his friend, who smiled back at Ben for a second until he remembered he was angry, at which point his face shut down as he wheeled around and started walking away. Matt was forcing his face blank, Ben realized. This had never happened before. Matt had never been afraid to let the world know what he was thinking, with his wild body language, with his words, even with his facial expressions. A blank Matt was…unthinkable. But there he walked, the image completely unacceptable to Ben's brain, completely wrong. He had to fix this.

"Matt." He tried calling his friend's name first, to see if that did anything. Matt kept walking. An order, perhaps. "Come back here." Matt wasn't his servant, and he wasn't upper class anymore. He was just normal. In desperation, he started chasing down his friend. "Wait! Soft!" Matt still ignored him. Why was he ignoring Ben? Matt always had a comeback for everything. He was supposed to be the talkative one.

Benvolio planted himself in front of Matt, crossing his arms, refusing to let him friend by. "Talk to me," he growled, letting his frustration hide the pleading that was really happening in his heart.

Matt tried to walk around him. Even his eyes were dull.

"Stop trying to run away!" Ben snapped, blocking him again. "Come on! Speak to me! You always have something to say. Say something! Anything!"

His friend didn't even acknowledge him.

Blood rose to his face as Ben slowly lost the battle to stay in control. "Ay me!" He yelled. "What's wrong with you today?"

A muscle in Matt's jaw twitched. Just as Ben turned away in defeat, thinking that something must have replaced the real Matt, he opened his mouth. "Nothing's wrong with me."

Ben wheeled around, a relieved smile on his face. The fact that the words were flat and emotionless didn't seem to matter. "Are you sure? You've been acting up all day." He stood there, huge smile still on his face, waiting for the pun on "acting up" that would surely reference getting high off crack.

"I'm not the one with a problem," Matt said, his oddly bland voice making an impression on his friend this time. Not to mention the lack of drug references. Benvolio bit his lip as he thought of a way to respond to the obviously baited line.

"I'm the one with a problem, then?"

Matt threw him a startled glance – whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. "Yeah. You and your 'ay me's and your ridiculous attitude."

Ben sighed. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of Jake's rants, but if Matt felt he had to say them, then Ben would let him. He deserved to hear all of the accusations. Because they were, for the most part….

_I thought you liked us for us. Not just because we distracted you from your dead friends._

...painfully correct.

"Let me guess," Ben said, looking down at the floor. His words tumbled quickly out of his mouth, despite the lump in his throat. "I've used you. I haven't been honest with you about my past. You shared everything with me, and I don't deserve it at all. I don't pay attention to you. You felt like I cared when really I didn't. I-"

"Ben, shut up," Matt interrupted. Ben looked up quickly, at little thrown at being cut off in the middle of his rant. "If that's what Jake's been feeding you, don't listen to a word of it. He's always had problems controlling his anger and, to tell the truth, he's a bit of a drama king."

Ben bit his tongue as to not let a smile creep up his face or, heaven forbid, start having hysterics. At first it seemed a bit ridiculous to call Jake a drama king, when Matt always loved to be the center of attention.

He started to shake in silent guffaws when he thought that it wasn't so ridiculous, since Jake's counterpart was Romeo, the star of one of the world's now most favorite plays. If he wasn't the king of drama, who was?

The funniest thing was, in a sad kind of way, that he couldn't share either of these things with Matt, who would have loved them. He never really could share things with those two, because of who he was. His laughter died away suddenly. How could it be fair of him to expect them to be anything like friends?

Matt hadn't noticed any of his silent struggles. "Look, the problem is you're making me be the smart one. And I really hate acting smart."

It took Ben a minute for the words to register in his mind. "What?"

"Smart people are so _stuck up_," Matt muttered, rolling his eyes. "Even you and Jake. That's why I vowed never to join you. But now you're forcing me to. Some friends you are."

"Huh?" Matt didn't seem to be paying attention to Ben's confusion at all.

"You problem isn't that you didn't treat me and Jake like your girlfriends. I don't need to know your life's history if you don't want to talk about it, and I don't need you to hang on my every word. Ben, just because Jake and I have helped you get over some bad moods, doesn't mean you used us. And don't ever think that you don't deserve new friends because you've had troubles in the past."

Matt started pacing, blond hair hanging down over his forehead. Some of his muttering seemed to be directed just as much at himself as Ben. "You're a different person from Jake and me. I never took anything he said that seriously. You're quieter and more internalized. I should of realized that you'd take it this bad. I need to have a talk with that kid."

Ben opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say.

"The biggest piece of bullshist I've ever heard out of your mouth –and trust me, there's been plenty- is that you don't care about us. I know you're just an exchange kid. I know you'll have to go home. But remember that time after school, the day off the food fight? Remember when I told you that you belonged here? Remember when Jake told you that he didn't want you to leave? Because he agreed with me?"

"He sure doesn't anymore." Ben muttered. He didn't have time to duck away from the blow hitting him upside the head. "OW! What was that for?"

"Bullshist." Matt stated. "I want you to look at me and tell me that you don't have the same feeling. I bet my life that you can't."

"Don't say things like that," Ben retaliated, finding his voice again. He rubbed his now-sore head.

The corners of Matt's lips tugged upwards. "You just proved me right, like, five times. You care, even though Jake's somehow managed to convince you that you don't. You feel that you belong here. You can't tell me you don't. And you do listen when we're talking about something important. You listen too well. You trust us too much, even, taking everything we say so dang seriously. Back to my original point: you care so much that you won't even let me say careless things about my living, because you can't bear to see otherwise."

"But-"

Matt held up his hands. "Don't bust my bubble. Even if I have to be smart, I rather like psychologist mode. Now, I know you're kind of afraid to care again, because you just had to bear to see people you care about die, and you never ever want to go through that again. That's completely understandable. In your mind, the logical course of action is to stop caring about things, so if they leave you it doesn't hurt."

"Unfortunately for you, you're a caring person. And you've already got new friends that care for you one heck of a lot, even if they've got a lousy way of showing it. Unfortunately for you, the more you care for someone, the harder the hardships are. So right now things are looking pretty bad. Bad enough to convince you that you need to stop caring already."

"But I think you also need to remember that the more you care, the greater the good times are. So quit being afraid. It's worth it." Matt shot him a grin. "I can tell you from personal experience."

"And while you're at it, quit feeling guilty because of your old friends."

Ben's body tensed up, like they always did whenever Romeo and Mercutio were mentioned. Matt was ready for this. "You're having survivors' guilt. You lived and they didn't. Now, I never got to meet your friends, and I'm really sorry about that. If they meant that much to you, then they much have been special people. But I know you, and I know you wouldn't love them the way you do if they didn't care for you just as much. Yeah, present tense, boy, because you still love them and you always will. So, from my deductive reasoning I can tell that your friends, wherever they are, are ecstatic that you weren't in that accident with them. Because they would have wanted you to live, even though you'll miss each other."

Ben gave a hallow laugh, one that caused Matt to jump and give his friend a second look. He shouldn't be able to laugh like that. He was too young.

"My friends weren't in an accident," he said, in an empty voice that made Matt's blood run cold. Then he laughed that awful laugh again. "My first friend was stabbed."

For once, Matt seemed at a loss for words. "Oh…Ben….I'm sorry…I just assumed…"

"Matt," he said, his voice slipping a little, "One of my friends committed suicide, because he didn't want to live without his beloved. How can you be sure that our bond was as strong as you say if… I wouldn't be willing to do the same?"

Matt gasped at his words, grabbing Ben's arm and pulling him to the ground. Ben couldn't help but feel the absurdity of the situation, sitting cross legged in the middle of the hallway of a deserted school, talking about feelings. He tried to laugh at himself but it came out more as a sob.

"Ben," Matt growled. "Don't you think that. Don't you ever think that."

"Why?" His voice, as much as he tried to control it and sound normal, was rasping and only just above a whisper.

"Well, your friend wasn't evil, was he?"

"I certainly thought not."

"Well, then, there you go."

"There I go with what?" Ben snapped, suddenly irritated. This whole thing was nonsensical. "What do you know that makes everything suddenly right?"

"Look," Matt said, uncharacteristically cool, "your friend wasn't evil, because he didn't take you down with him. And if he still wasn't evil, than he would have wanted you to meet Jake and me."

Ben looked up, eyes shining with tears that he refused to let fall, taken aback with these such strong words. "He would have wanted…?"

"Gosh darn it, Ben, yes, he would have! Look, did your friend have a name?"

Benvolio looked down again and shook his head. Matt sighed next to him. "If you don't want to say it, that's fine, I guess. The point is, that unless he was evil, he would have wanted you to meet us, so that me and Jake could have the great friend we do. Because he knew how great you were, and he would want to share you with these two desperate American kids whose lives are falling apart. Because Jake and I didn't know what we were missing until we had it, and know that I realize it, you're one of the best things that's ever happened to us."

Matt paused. "As you would say, ay me. I can't believe I just said that. I'm turning into a soap opera."

He rounded on Ben. "You are quite possibly the only guy who could ever get me to say things like that."

"Are you kidding me? What happened to all the atrocious poetry dedicated to a certain Samantha-?"

"I said guy, idiot. Stop changing the subject. Let's go over the things you're going to quit: 1. Quit being afraid to care about people. 2. Quit feeling guilty because your friends died and you didn't, because it's a bloody good thing you didn't. 3. Quit thinking you're being rude to your friends' memories by making knew ones. Cuz you're not. They would have wanted you to be happy."

Ben bit his lip and looked down again, no more attempts at friendly teasing. The action was not looked over by Matt. "Oh no. Something else. Tell me."

"Jake says that I shouldn't use you two as replacements for them," Ben mumbled quietly.

Matt sighed and ran his hand through his blond hair, a habit he had picked up from Jake. "What have I said about listening to Jake?"

"That I shouldn't," Ben mumbled. He looked like a small child that had just gotten in trouble, Matt thought. He sighed again.

"But what if-" Ben started again.

"He's not right!" Matt repeated bitterly. He was sounding like a schoolteacher, even to himself. Why did Jake have to cause his friends so many mental issues? "He's never right when it comes to important things. He doesn't ever think about anything. He just goes ahead and opens his mouth and doesn't give a bit about the consequences. Now, Ben, I'm getting tired of being smart, so you're going to have to solve this sorry one on your own. I trust you enough to think that when you look at me, you see me, and not one of your old friends. If you looked at me and Jake, and all you saw was them, well then…I guess I could see why Jake would be upset." He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.

"I like to think that that doesn't happen. I trust you to be the smart one and either make Jake see sense, or…" Matt gulped. He'd lied when he'd said Jake was never right, because a lot of the time he was. Still never thought anything through, but he was. "…find some other way to get over your friends."

Benvolio didn't object to his rude, open language. He just sat there, looking as lost and confused and as like a child as Matt had ever seen him.

There was the sudden sound of sneakers on the floor, causing Ben and Matt to both look up as a figure rounded the corner. They'd both assumed the hallway was deserted.

"Ben, wherever you are, we have to go, _now._ My parents are here to pick us up and we're going straight to the airport to get Ami- Matt?"

Jake stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of his thick winter coat, looking a bit taken aback if anything at the sight of the two just sitting on the floor of a deserted school hallway, doing nothing. Ben jumped up quickly, walking over and grabbing his own backpack and coat from where he'd dumped them against the wall earlier. Matt followed his example, groaning as if the effort to move was too much.

"Oooooh my stiff legs. Ami's coming home today?"

"Yeah," Ben and Jake answered at the same time, glancing at each other before turning away awkwardly. Matt sighed, still stretching. He was going to have to do something about this.

"Hey, Jake, in detention today Ben was doubting whether I actually had to ability to be smart."

There were so many comments Jake could have made there, so many ways to offend, that Matt actually paused a few seconds the wait for one of them.

Nothing.

"I told him I was so smart I cold solve your little spat in five minutes." Matt continued bravely. _Come on, _he thought. He practically wanted to insult himself, for pity's sake. Some sort of retaliation. Anything.

Finally Jake raised an eyebrow and commented, "Spat?"

Matt slapped himself in the forehead. "All the things you could have said and you pick on my word choice? Really? What is the world coming to?"

"Spat?" Jake repeated.

"Yeah," Matt said, feeling his temper flare up. "Now I've just been talking to Ben-" he ignored the way Jake frowned at the name "-and I know what the problem is."

"I have to go," Jake replied, a steely glint in his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"Wait!" Matt cried, hurrying to keep up. "I think you just need to realize that Ben's had a hard time and trust-"

"_Ben's _had a hard time?' Jake interrupted sarcastically. "He's been able to use us to runaway from all his problems. How could he possibly be having a hard time?"

Ben's face darkened, all thoughts of trying to stay out of the conversation forgotten. "Lapet, you don't know-"

"Jake," Matt interrupted, "He's-"

BEEEEEP.

The three boys froze. A very annoyed Mr. Lapet dashed through the front doors of the school. "Jake, what is taking you so long?" he demanded, his eyes catching first upon his son. "I told you, we're going to be late to pick up Ami –oh, you three. I should have known. Do you go everywhere together?"

Ben looked down awkwardly. Everybody assumed they were on great terms with each other, like they should have been. Why did that make the fact that Jake wouldn't speak two words to him harder?

Matt smirked at Mr. Lapet's question and threw his arms around Ben and Jake's shoulders. It didn't really work, seeing as how he was the shortest one of all three on them, but that didn't matter to Matt. "I wish we could, Mr. Lapet. Because I know, no matter what, that these two will always be my best friends. No matter what."

Ben's face burned as he bit his lip. On the other side of Matt, Jake opened his mouth, closed it again, gave his friend a look, and then shrugged the hand off his shoulder. They both started following Mr. Lapet out of the school.

"Listen to what I said, alright?" Matt called after them. Jake turned around to glance back again. "Oh, stop trying to think of clever comebacks, Jake. You wish you had my social skills. Close that mouth! Shut up for once in your life and think! You to, Ben. That's an order."

The car ride to the airport was unusually silent. Ben wasn't sure exactly what direction his thoughts were supposed to be taking.

_These two will always be my best friends, no matter what._

Romeo and Mercutio would always be his best friends. It didn't mean he couldn't make knew ones. That was settled.

_These two will always be my best friends, no matter what._

It was an honor to have Matt declare such a thing. If only Jake would say the same. It couldn't be too long before he and Jake came to some sort of reconciliation. Somehow. Maybe Jake just had to have a talk with Matt, to.

_I trust you enough to think that when you look at me, you see me, and not one of your old friends._

That was maybe the hardest thing to deal with, but he knew he could. Mercutio, for all his words, could never have talked like that. He never could have understood people so completely. Mercutio had been a leader, the family of the government; Matt didn't have any pressure on him to be as good a superior when he grew old. Matt was not Mercutio.

Jake was not Romeo.

This one was harder to prove to himself. They both were good with words…and moped a little too much for their own good…but Jake wasn't as internalized, as secretive as Romeo had been. Jake put himself out there. When Romeo was judged as a Montague, he did everything in his power to appear as saintly as anyone could want. When Jake was judged as a Mient, he let the judger have an earful on what exactly they were doing wrong and how much he hated what they were doing.

Montague. Mient. Ha. He got it.

_These two will always be my best friends, no matter what._

He'd have to tell Jake and Matt that, someday.

Still, he couldn't deny the fact everything was strangely similar to the story back home. Not identical, but similar. He'd still have to be on his guard for Julies or Julias or any girls of that sort. He would not let his friend get in trouble again.

"We're here," Mrs. Lapet announced, as the car pulled up along a curb detonated as **Arrivals**. He vaguely remembered the airport from when he had been here all those months ago. "Do you see Ami?"

"Her name's short for Amelia," Jake hissed in his ear from behind him. "And she bothered to find out about you. Don't worry, she actually cares."

Ben didn't reply, on the slight chance he might get murdered if he did. Besides, he really was quite curious to meet Jake's sister.


	21. Friend's Family

_So this is what Romeo's sister might have looked like_, Ben thought to himself. True, Jake looked little like Romeo, but the idea was not too far fetched.

The girl was about fourteen of fifteen. She had the same color hair as Jake, a medium brown, but her eyes were also dark as compared to Jake's hazel. She two braids in the front of her head that she had tied around to a knot in the back, leaving the rest to flow freely until it stopped a few inches below her shoulders. She was wearing a yellow tee shirt, sticking out from the dreariness of Northeastern American winters. That was all the impression Ben could gather from her until she was buried from view beneath the hugs of her family.

"Mom, mom, stop, of course I missed you. School was brilliant. I told you when you called on Sunday. Dad, I'm so glad to be back home. And don't worry, Jake, I already got you a Christmas present. I didn't forget about you."

Jake grinned back teasingly. "Well, if you've already got me a present, than I guess I can welcome you home."

Ben had known Ami Lapet for about ten seconds when he decided that she also seemed familiar in some way. Maybe she had a counterpart back in Verona that he had known; some servant girl in his household, perhaps? He could look into it later. She had many large suitcases with her; not wanting to interrupt their family reunion (he knew they were lucky to have one) he grabbed them and started loading them into the trunk of the car.

"I've missed home so much. So is great, but I couldn't be we couldn't go home for Thanksgiving."

"You don't go back until the last week on January," Jake told her. "That's my entire first semester is over by then. Quit complaining."

"Alright, big brother." Ami smiled. She'd missed this, the playful teasing of siblings that you couldn't quite replicate with her friends. "It's kind of cold out here, actually, and I forgot to bring my winter jacket. Do you think we could get going?"

"Of course, sweetie," her father told her. "Hop in the car."

Ami turned to drag her suitcases, only to find they were gone. With a frown, she looked up towards the car, only then taking in the fifth person in their midst. She'd forgotten about the exchange student.

He was about an inch shorter than Jake, at most, and not as broad of shoulder. From underneath his hat she could see sandy brown large curls sticking out. The skin on the back of his neck was a little too tan for someone native to the area. He was just shutting the trunk of the car and turning around to find the family look at him. He shrugged modestly and shoved his hands back into his pockets of his coat.

"Oh, Ami, this is Ben. I'm sure you'll get along really well," her father said, continuing to talk in the background. Ben smiled politely at Ami, his white teeth looking just as bright as the snow against his tan skin, and nodded to her.

Based on her five seconds of observations, she decided that there was something about Ben she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe it was the fact that he was apparently a very good friend of Jake and Matt, her brother's best friend, (she had heard this from her parent's phone calls) and seemed quiet. She couldn't imagine that. Back when they were little, and she had tried to play with them, being quiet had gotten her ignored.

Well, here he was, living and breathing proof that somebody could put up with her brother without constantly cracking jokes at him, besides herself. But then again, she and Jake were related. That couldn't really count.

Ami kept studying him when she thought he wasn't looking. Well, Ben wasn't looking, but he knew she was doing it. And he wasn't quite sure how to react.

Between that, and the awkward tension between him and Jake, he barely spoke a word throughout the evening, and when he did, it was something insignificant like, "Could you pass the water?" Now, more than ever, he wished he had those letters Jake had sent. They might give him something to say.

After dinner, Ben claimed the table to spread his books out on and started his homework. He was vaguely surprised was he heard the chair opposite him being pulled out and sat in, and was even more so when he looked up to see Jake's sister.

"What are you working on?" she asked. She rested her head in one hand, the other hand fidgeting on the table.

He blinked. So she wanted to get to know more about the stranger living in her house. He could respect that. "Latin," he answered, gesturing to his paper and textbook.

She nodded. "Why isn't Jake here doing his homework?"

"He always goes up to his room," Ben replied easily. He looked down to start working again. "This is probably to one time of day he doesn't have to spend with me."

There was something in his tone she couldn't place- not that she'd heard him talk that much, but still, there was. "What do you mean?"

Ben made a face at his homework. "Oh, we just have nearly identical schedules at school, and somehow we always spend most of the afternoon together, so…" he trailed off, hoping that answered her question.

"Jake takes Latin?"

"I said _nearly_ identical," Ben corrected, but he was smiling. She was smart.

"Anyways, I, um, wanted to thank you," Ami started, biting her lip. She took a piece of her hair and started twirling it in her fingers.

"Oh? What for?"

"For helping me with the suitcases," she explained quietly, looking down. "I know you didn't have to, and, well, thanks."

Ben shrugged before realizing a verbal response might be necessary. "'Twas nothing. Really."

She smiled at the memory. His accent was different than what she'd thought an English accent would sound like. One of her friends from school grew up in England, and she sounded completely different. "I can't believe you've lived here for almost six months and didn't know what room was mine."

Ben blushed a little, remembering how he'd tried to help carry her things up to her room and had gotten lost. "I wasn't exactly looking for it at all."

"But you must've past the door loads of times! Weren't you curious?"

"I had a whole new country to be curious about." _And a whole new time period. _"Besides, my family's house is even bigger than this one. We have lots of rooms that I have no reason to use. I didn't think anything of it."

"That makes sense," Ami agreed. She tried to think of something else to say. It wasn't odd that he was well-off back at home; after all, if his parents had the money to send him here, he couldn't have been poor. She stared at him working as she tried to figure out what seemed strange about him.

Maybe it was just the fact that he was quiet, and she had just gotten back from music school, a school of performers. She was one of the quietest students there, too, and he seemed just as withdrawn or more so than she. Maybe that was it.

Ben looked up to meet her eyes, just smiling at her and returning to his work, not commenting on the fact that she was staring or that she had started to blush when he caught her. Embarrassed, and not exactly sure why, she stood up and exited the kitchen.

Still curious for more information, she climbed the stairs and entered Jake's room without knocking. Sure enough, like Ben had told her, he was there. He was lying on his bed, listening to his IPod, rather than doing homework. He cracked an eye open when she entered, closing to door behind her.

"Can you take out your headphones? I want to talk to you."

Jake, but paused his music and did what she asked, sitting up. She also sat down on the foot of his bed, cross legged. "What's up?"

"Can you tell me a bit more about Ben?" she said casually.

Jake made a face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. What's with the attitude? Mom told me you were practically attached to each other."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I realized what a jerk he is."

Ami frowned. "He seems really nice."

"Of course he does. Seems a lot of things. Seems being the key word."

"He's not?"

"No."

Ami waited for more. After all, this was her brother Jake. He was always ready to share his wisdom (or lack thereof) with the world. Sure, he got really moody from time to time, but he was still usually willing to talk. Even if it was to snap at her and then go off on a rant.

"Why do you think he's not nice?" Ami asked, knowing full well these words could start Jake on a wild temper tantrum. Instead he just sighed and looked away.

"Don't worry about. I'm sure he'll act perfectly fine towards you. Just don't be surprised if he starts staring at you randomly."

"Um…okay?"

"Probably has a dead girlfriend or something," Jake muttered, barking out a humorless laugh.

Ami's face melted into one of horror. "Jake! Don't joke about things like that!"

His voice flat, he replied, "I'm not joking."

She stayed still, a bit shocked, waiting for her brother to explain. Eventually he sighed and started his explanation. "Ben's kind of messed up. There was some tragic accident back in his hometown, and a couple of close friends of his died."

"That's awful!"

"I know."

"How…" she trailed off.

Jake shrugged. "Beats me. Won't say a thing about it."

"You shouldn't be so mean to him just because he doesn't want to talk-"

"Ami. One, don't tell me what I'm doing wrong."

She glared. "You do it all the time."

He ignored her. "Two, I'm not mad because he won't talk about it. I might not want to talk about it either if something like that happened to me." He looked at his sister. "Look…" he started, but then cut himself off, sighing. "Never mind."

"What?"

"You can tell me," she said softly, crawling closer towards her brother.

"It'll sound stupid."

Ami rolled her eyes. Jake and calling feelings stupid. He hadn't changed a bit. "Not much change from normal, then?"

Jake snorted. "Fine. I…I used to think Ben was a really good friend. But…then I realized…"

Ami recognized that Jake himself was still troubled by whatever-it-was-he-had-realized, but she was practically bursting with impatient curiosity. "Realized?" she asked.

Jake turned away from her. "He doesn't care."

Ami frowned, her eyebrows crinkling. "What do you mean?"

Jake shook his head. "He doesn't care about m- about anybody. Me and Matt? We're just replacements for his friends. Just distractions from the pain that they're dead. I used to feel sorry for him, but…that's not fair. That's not fair that we should be so nice to him when he's not really paying attention to us, at all. It's not fair that I could have trusted him so much when-"

He cut himself off. "Sorry. I didn't mean to start yelling like that."

Ami shook her head. "No, I'm sorry for disturbing you. It's my fault. Thanks for talking with me."

He mumbled something in reply. Normally she wouldn't have pursued it, but the words somehow sounded familiar. "What was that?"

Jake smiled at her. "'Twas nothing. Really. You should get to bed; you've had a long day."

She nodded, thinking over the phrase he had chosen. He'd obviously picked up that expression of dismissing thanks from Ben. He probably did it often.

Jake's angry words also floated up in her mind. Somehow, an angry stranger who was still recovering from the deaths of others and the schoolboy helping her with her things and diligently working on Latin homework didn't add up. Lost in thought, she headed back to her own room, passing Ben's on the way.

She caught a glimpse inside his as she passed by. He was no longer at the kitchen table. Instead he was a dark figure, also sitting on his bed, staring broodingly out the window.

She kept thinking about her brother's words as she changed into her pajamas. Stupid Jake. He was feeling more betrayed than angry, really. If only he figured that out, then maybe Ben would open up more.


	22. Informative Arguement

A/N: Sorry, from now on it will be longer between updates. School, the usual. This chapter makes it up to you, I think- the one we've all been waiting for. Reviews are wonderful, and again, a huge thank you to the people who have been. It really helps. Now, drumroll please...

~Bananna

* * *

"Matt? Matt, have you seen Jake?"

The blond shrugged. "Sorry, mate. Can't help you there. Look, I gotta run, or I'm going to miss the bus."

"See you," Ben called as he started running away, "and have a good Christmas!" Matt waved his hand over his shoulder and continued out the door.

It was the last day of school before winter break. He'd been looking forward to this for days. The weekend, and then Christmas on Wednesday. He'd already bought presents for everyone, with the help of Jake's parents. There was only an inch of snow on the ground. Things were looking to turn out great.

The only problem was Jake had apparently cut last period, and now he was still nowhere to be found. Ben knew he was going to miss the bus himself, but he couldn't bring himself to ride home without Jake without even trying to look for him.

The thing was, he had absolutely no idea where to look. Jake had been even more distant the last week, if that was possible, completely disappearing between classes and then again after school. But at least he had come home, or given some feeble excuse about "talking to a teacher" if he didn't take the bus. He'd never just disappeared. Or cut a class, now that he thought about it.

At first he just wandered down hallways randomly, looking around as if Jake would be standing just around the corner in the middle of a corridor. It took about five minutes for him to realize how stupid this was. If Jake was just lounging around, surely a teacher would have caught him during last period.

_Maybe something happened, _Ben thought, and somebody forgot to tell me. Maybe he was in the nurse's office right this second. Or had a college something that ran long with his guidance counselor. Maybe he just fell asleep in the back of the library. Or something that didn't involve him feeling so awkward around Ben that Jake couldn't stand another hour with him.

Jake's whole life doesn't revolve around you, Ben berated himself. There's got to be a good reason behind this. You're just overreacting. With a sigh, Ben started towards his only hope- the main office.

The secretaries were very friendly towards him, like most of the adults in the school. Maybe it was his sense of quietness, and his maturity, or maybe it was just the fact that he was the exchange student. But as he walked through the door, he was greeted with a flash of warm smiles from behind a few computer screens before each went back to work.

Ben approached the secretary in charge of attendance among other things, an African-American woman in her 50s by the name of Mrs. Lee. "Excuse me?" he asked, getting her to look up again.

"Mr. Mantahue!" she cried, "not lost again, are we?"

Ben shook his head, smiling at little despite his mood. "No, m'am. I think I've finally learned my way around the school. I was actually wondering if you could help me with something."

"And what would that be, Mr. Mantahue?"

"I was wondering if you had any recent information about Jake Lapet, my host student. He wasn't in the last class, and I was wondering…" Ben trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Mrs. Lee seemed to catch on to what he was saying. "Well, how about we strike a deal? I'll pull up the information for you if you make a little delivery for me. Can you deliver these papers to Mr. Pandetta's room?" She shoved a large stack in his direction.

"Sure," Ben agreed, picking them up. He would have agreed to almost anything at this point. "Ah, who is Mr. Pandetta?"

She laughed. "The theater arts teacher. His classroom is right outside the auditorium."

"Ah. Right. Well, do you think you look up Jake Lapet first? That's L-A-P-E-T. Not to be rude, or anything. I just, well-"

"It's fine, child," Mrs. Lee cut him off, saving him from stammering out wore apologies. Ben tried not to fidget as she tapped on the keyboard.

It felt like she was taking SO long…

"Here we are," she finally said, straightening up. "You're right; he wasn't accounted for during last period. It seems he left school early. He'll get a detention for that after break."

Ben's heart sank. So nobody knew where Jake was. Where could he possibly be?

"That's funny," Mrs. Lee kept musing. "He doesn't have a record for cutting classes at all."

Ben bit his lip. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" he asked, fidgeting with the stack of papers he was holding. "Please? At all?"

The secretary sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, Mr. Mantahue. Freshman Raina Doe and junior Jake Lapet were the only two unexcused from last class. There's nothing else here. I wish I could do more. I hope you find him soon."

Ben nodded, looking away. Raina Doe…why did that name sound familiar? He was sure he hadn't met her. He didn't know any freshman girls, really. So why did that name sound so odd?

So those two were the only two missing last class, Ben mused as he walked down the halls again, this time with a destination. Wouldn't it be funny if they were together now? Maybe, if he and Jake ever got back on speaking terms, he could tease Jake about it. Raina Doe and Jake Lapet.

Ben slowed to a halt in the middle of the hallway. Something about that phrase didn't sound right. But why wouldn't it? He repeated it in his mind. Raina Doe and Jake Lapet.

_Romeo and Juliet. _

Crap.

He tried to reassure himself, again, as he entered the last classroom before the auditorium and set down the papers on the teacher's desk. No. What were they chances that they were together, right now? This wasn't the fourteenth century anymore. Teenagers didn't run off and get married. There weren't friars in every city anymore. Jake's family only went to church every other Sunday, anyways. And he wasn't particularly close to the preacher. In fact, if he regularly talked to any adult, it was his confirmation teacher, who couldn't legally perform a marriage. He thought. Jake's teacher hadn't graduated from pastor school or whatever-they-called- it-these-days yet. So there was no way that Jake could be getting married without parental permission at this moment. Teenagers weren't even allowed to marry until they were 18, right? Right?

CRACK.

Ben froze at the loud noise splitting the air like a gunshot. What on earth could that be? It sounded like it was coming from the auditorium next door. Ben swallowed, steeling his nerves, and walked towards the doors. He'd just peek in, see what was going on, if he should be worried, and then would walk away. Nothing more.

He pulled open the auditorium door, which led onto the side of the seats, just a crack. It was dark in there. The only light was illuminating a stage, which held three figures. As his eyes adjusted, he recognized Jake on one side of the stage, and Tyler on the other. They all seemed to be frozen in action. Jake, holding the hand of some girl Ben didn't recognize, and Tyler, pointing a gun in their direction.

The noise had been a gunshot. Ben cursed under his breath, slipping in the door. Nobody looked like they had been hurt- at least, not yet. All he had to do was sneak up behind Tyler and wrestle the gun away before he had another chance to shoot. Creeping up to the steps behind the cover of the seats was easy. It was climbing up the steps to the stage without attracting attention that would be a bigger problem.

"Tyler," Jake's voice rang out, not nearly serious enough to match the situation he was in. "I don't want to fight. I don't want any trouble with you ever again."

Tyler snorted, but didn't comment on the fact that it wasn't exactly a fight. "Raina," he growled to the girl, "Let go of his freaking hand _now_."

She exchanged a look with Jake, not dropping his hand. "Tyler, we're cousins. Please. Just put down the gun."

"I know we're family," he argued. "That means it's my job to make you see sense. What would Kyle say if he could see you now?"

"I'm sure he-" she started, but she looked less certain. Ben's mind was whirling. So this girl was Raina, and she and Tyler were cousins. Didn't Matt say Tyler was also cousins with the original Katt? Was that who Kyle was? So Raina must have been related to him as well…

"He's a Mient ba-. And if you won't put an end to this, I will."

"Tyler, don't!" She pleaded. Ben slowly crept up the stairs, sticking to the wall and the shadows. He could see Jake and Tyler both tensing their muscles. _Don't do anything rash, you moron. Please. She's just a girl._

He didn't believe his own thoughts. If Romeo had dropped everything for Juliet, surely Jake would do the same for this Raina. But why did _he_ always have to be in these situations?

Tyler growled something else to Jake and Raina, but Ben wasn't paying attention. There was something wrong with the situation. If things went like the play, it should be Matt up there fighting Tyler, not Jake. It should have been him trying to be the peacemaker, not Raina. If things went like the play, he'd watch Matt and Tyler die and Jake be banished…

He felt his fists clench at his sides. To hell if he was going to let this turn out like the play.

"Ba." Tyler repeated, his fingering tightening on the trigger.

Ben dived for him, hitting him in time to have the bullet go off course and lodge itself somewhere in the ceiling. It must have hit something- suddenly the stage light fixtures were swinging wildly everywhere. A wooden set was falling down too, collapsing everywhere and sending sawdust up in the air.

Ben barely noticed. He was too busy desperately fighting someone who outweighed him by at least 10 pounds for control of the gun. Ben latched his hands around Tyler's wrists, kicking and rolling and whatever he could. Both of them were shouting, but what they couldn't tell you. His right arm scraped against the floor. It felt like the limb was burning. The gun fired again. Ben ducked as the bullet whizzed over his shoulder. Finally, gasping, he managed to get some control of the gun, bringing up the machine to smash it against Tyler's head.

Tyler freed himself with a yell, pushing Ben away. He cried out as he flew off of the edge of the stage, banging his head sharply on the concrete floor below. Immediately his mind started blurring with pain. He gasped, throwing the gun somewhere away from him.

There was a flurry of footsteps as Jake materialized next to him, helping pull himself up into a sitting position against the wall. Ben screwed up his eyes in concentration to focus on the word coming out of his friend's mouth. The words rang in his ears. "Ben! BEN! You…you…Tyler almost shot you!"

"Well, he didn't," Ben rasped back, breathing heavily. "What…happened?" Jake looked back up on the stage, and then back down at Ben.

"Tyler's unconscious, don't worry. What were you thinking? Why did you jump in front of him?" Jake demanded, pale and wide eyed. "You could've been killed!" He made wild hand gestures to accent his point.

"Good," Ben grunted. His entire body was sore, and he was definitely bleeding somewhere. He wasn't exactly concentrating on his conversation very much.

"Good?" Jake's voice jumped and octave. "What do you mean, good?"

"Better me than you," Ben gasped, wishing more than anything that this blasted headache would go away.

There was a small silence for his words, before a very timid Jake asked, "You were willing to die for me?"

Ben groaned in frustration. "Of course, you idiot. I wasn't bloody well going to let anything happen to you."

"What? But…I thought you didn't care about me."

Rolling his eyes only seemed to make the pain worse. "Idiot."

"Ben, I've been acting awful towards you." Jake continued, kneeling beside him.

"Doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?" Jake burst out. "I don't understand. How can you-"

"Because you're one of my best friends," Ben interrupted, concentrating on breathing.

"Wh-"

"FRIENDS." Ben yelled. "I care about you more than I can stand and if you were to die I don't know the heck I'd do! That's it! That's all! Do you get it now? But I suppose I'll have to find out what to do when I go home in a month! I'm sorry I got in your way."

If he'd been paying attention, he might have noticed Jake bring up a hand to brush away tears. But he wasn't- he'd finally managed to locate the limb causing him the most pain.

There was a bang as the auditorium doors slammed open, and Matt of all people ran in. Ben's eyes fluttered as he saw Raina jump off the stage and have a quick conversation with Jake and Matt. He didn't bother to pay attention to their words, studying his right arm again instead.

"Ben! Your arm!"

There was a rather large scratch running down the entire length of it, tracing his scar. "That's funny," Ben remarked out loud, trying not to concentrate on the blood. "It's right on top of it."

"Ben," Jake said. His voice also sounded funny. It almost sounded as if Jake was pleading with him. "Stay with me, okay?"

Ben frowned, wanting to look away from the blood welling up on his arm but not being able to. "But semester's almost over, and I have to go home. You said so."

Matt barked out a laugh, said something to Jake, and ran out of the auditorium with Raina. Ben watched them with mild curiosity in his eyes, but didn't have the strength to call out. He felt his eyes dropping. He wanted to sleep again.

"BEN!" Jake shouted in his ear, his voice close to panic. "Don't do it. Don't fall asleep. Don't leave me."

"I mightn't have the choice." Ben mumbled. He could feel Jake shaking his shoulder. "Friar Lawrence's potion is running out, methinks."

Jake was shaking his shoulder, calling his name. "Ben, can you just stay awake until help comes? They can get you whatever potion you need, I'm sure of it."

"Nay, they can't." Silly Jake. He wasn't making any sense. "If medics could make magic potions, Romeo would be alive right now. They could've cured his poison."

Jake froze. "Romeo? Was that one of your friends?"

"Aye," Ben mumbled sleepily. "Well, technically he was my cousin."

"Ben Mantahue, don't you dare fall asleep." Jake ordered. His voice turned softer. "I need you."

"S'not my name," Ben answered, getting annoyed.

"What?"

"You got it wrong. It's Montague." Ben corrected him, closing his eyes. Jake shook his shoulders again. "And you may call me Benvolio. Itsna a bad name."

"Benvolio?" Jake's voice sounded funny. "Is that your real name?"

"Aye," he responded, letting his head rest on Jake. "May I sleep now?"

"One more minute, Ben."

"Itsna fair. Uncle let Romeo sleep in."

"Well, Uncle's not here right now."

"You best call him Lord Montague," Benvolio told him. "Otherwise you might get in trouble."

"In trouble?"

"Not with the prince." Ben reassured him. "Just with my family. Not sure I could help ya much. Romeo usually did the helping…he was better with words than me…like you…"

"Ben, come on. Stay with me."

"Am I dying?"

Jake's voice got louder, whinier. "NO! No, of course you're not. You're not going to die."

"Na, it's okay." Ben told him. "I'll get to see everyone again."

"Ben, you can't die! You have to stay here!"

"But…Verona…"

"That can wait, Ben."

"It's Benvolio."

"Benvolio."

He smiled against Jake's shoulder. It was nice to finally hear somebody call him that. "M'tired."

"I know."

"Where's Mercutio?"

"Mercutio?"

Benvolio gave a laugh. "Not Mercutio. Silly me. Mercutio's dead."

"Oh."

"I meant Matt."

"Matt's gone for help."

"S'okay. I only said Mercutio cuz he looks like Matt."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They've both blond locks."

"Oh."

"You talk funny."

"Do I?"

"Yes. You're supposed to say 'Ah.' Not oh."

"Oh. Ah."

"Better."

"Benvolio?"

"Aye?"

"Where are you from? England?"

Benvolio smirked. "Course not. Never been there. Italy. It's much warmer. We hardly ever see snow. Snow's stupid."

"And when's your birthday?"

"31 March."

"What year?"

Benvolio screwed up his head in concentration. "1307. I believe."

"Ben?"

"Benvolio."

"Benvolio? Why are you here?"

"Dunno. Accidently landed on a magic potion the Friar made. Sent me here. No idea. Dost thou need to talk so much?"

"Yes."

"Aye."

"Aye, then."

Benvolio smiled. "Better. You're finally sounding normal. Jake?"

"What?"

"Thou wilt be missed in mine heart."

"Thanks, Ben. You too."

"Thou art sounding bad again. Something like 'Many thanks, friend. I will keen for thy presence also."

"That's too long."

"But tis correct."

"Since when do I care about being correct?" Jake asked. His voice was getting softer and wavering, which was strange, because usually while making a teasing comment like that Jake would have been grinning in mirth. Was Jake grinning? He couldn't remember.

"Whatever thou like, coz," Ben replied faintly. Not only were the voices getting softer, but the room was slowly dimming also.

"Coz?"

"Ah. Art thou not mine relative?"

"I wish I was."

"Me too." Finally, with a smile on his lips, Benvolio fell asleep.


	23. Ben's Dream

A/N: I hope this was soon enough for you, since apparently the last chapter was a success. ;) The end is slowly approaching...I'm not quite sure what will happen, at this point. Review if you have any suggestions - and thank you to my faithful reviewers! You guys rock!

This chapter is like the previous Ben's Paper. Not completely necessary to the plot of the story. The following events may or may not have happened. Ben will only have the vaguest idea of topics mentioned, if at all. If asked, Ben would inform the reader that he rarely remembers his dreams, usually waking up with a feeling and the sense he had one. He would also say that while he would long for the following events to happen, he doubts they could. He is a devoted Catholic, after all.

* * *

_"No, Benvolio! Thou art not yet to awaken!"_

_A pair of fingers pressed down on his eyelids, keeping them from opening. He opened his mouth to protest, but a hand covered that too. Breathily, someone whispered in his ear, "Coz, thy time has not yet come."  
"Romeo?" Benvolio sat up bolt upright, causing the two next to his bedside to stumble back._

_"Thy wisdom shrinks by the day," Mercutio commented wryly over the bed to Benvolio's cousin. "Like a raisin in the sun. Tellest me, wherefore did thou speak?"_

_"Mercutio!" Benvolio yelled in joy. "Oh, it hath been too long, friend. I hath missed-"_

_"Benvolio," Romeo interrupted, cutting him off. "Thou art not to stay."_

_His heart sank. "What the heck?"_

_Romeo and Mercutio exchanged a look and laughed, but sobered quickly when they saw Benvolio's face. "Never did these ears think to hear the unruffled Benvolio speak so," Mercutio said. "Ah, tis a sound indeed, friend."_

_"Benvolio," Romeo continued softly. "Thou art not dead."_

_He blinked. The topic of dead or not had never occurred to him. The fact that he was seeing two best friends that he had thought to be lost forever was overwhelming enough. "What dost thou mean? If death hath me not, thy faces would not appear so."_

_Mercutio and Romeo exchanged another look. "Benvolio, moveth thy heart from thy ears." Mercutio reprimanded. _

_"Impossible," Romeo replied, unable to resist. "He still feels as a woman."_

_"Should have been born a girl, then?"_

_"Hang on!" Benvolio interrupted. "I am not…I mean, art not…"_

_Their smiles faded on their faces. Romeo sighed. "Thou art changed, coz."_

_Ben tried to get up, out of the bed, but their hands stopped him. "Nay," he said quietly, almost begging. "Nay, nay, a thousand times."_

_Mercutio offered him a comforting smile. "Peace. Changed not too much."_

_"Tis what we deserved," mused Romeo. "To leave thee abandoned."_

_"Do not-"_

_"I deserve no defense, coz, for I did thee wrong," Romeo reprimanded._

_Mercutio smirked in response. "Indeed, for Juliet's punishment has been very long in coming-"_

_"Thy mouth is a garbage pail," Romeo snapped. "Stinking when open. Coz, my companion as I surely wish to express our regret at thy plight."_

_"All the regret on the earth helps him not," Mercutio argued. He turned to Benvolio. "But I do apologize."_

_"As do I," agreed Romeo. _

_Benvolio looked at the two of them, each looking as strong and healthy and themselves as when he had last seen them. These were his childhood companions. His best friends. Roughly, he pulled each of them into a one-armed hug. They both froze awkwardly at his sides (Benvolio had never been a touchy person, especially in the 14__th__ century) before returning the embrace. _

_"I forgive thee," Benvolio mumbled into their arms. Then he pushed them away and laughed. "It will be as we never parted. Art as we now, together, we-"_

_"Benvolio," Romeo interrupted. Benvolio froze, slowly shutting his mouth. He didn't like that tone of voice. Seeing his reaction, Romeo sighed. Mercutio remained silent, fingering the edge of the blanket sheets. "Benvolio, together we will not remain." _

_His brain seemed to be frozen. He forced out another laugh. "Romeo, that's redicu-"_

_"Benvolio, thick-skull, thou art not dead!" Mercutio shouted, his cheeks turning red with emotion. "Thy place is not here."_

_"My place is with thee." Benvolio insisted stubbornly. _

_"Nay," Romeo and Mercutio insisted together. They exchanged a look and sighed. _

_"Aye," Benvolio argued, crossing his arms. _

_Romeo rubbed his forehead with his hands. "Was it not thee who confessed to being the most responsible of us?"_

_"Responsibility? We are three musketeers." Both of their faces broke into looks of confusion. They probably thought he had finally gone mad. "Ah. Excuse me. Tis a common reference in the future."_

_"And of the future," Mercutio chimed, "Thou must return there."_

_"And leave thee?"_

_"Aye," said Romeo. Mercutio nodded. "If we kept thee, would not a certain Jake and Matt be angry with us?" _

_Benvolio froze. He'd completely forgotten about them. _

_"And thou needeth to care for Father," Romeo reminded him. _

_Benvolio bit his lip. "Mayhaps thou can tell me of my predicament, then. Are Jake and Matt not a dream? And what of Verona?"_

_Mercutio hmphed loudly. "I thought thou processed brain enough for that. Of course they art dreamt up by thee. Thou hath not the imagination."_

_"But-"_

_"The potion of the friar," Romeo explained, "transported thee to a similar situation in the future."_

_"So-"_

_"Aye. Thy friends are waiting for thee, back in the living land. Which thou shouldst reenter, and would have, if thou hadn't had to awaken." _

_"T'was thee who insisted upon a visit," Mercutio muttered._

_"And thou set up a vast argument," Romeo answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He put a hand on Ben's forehead and pushed him back down to the bed. _

_"And of mine arm?"_

_Mercutio pointed to it, letting Ben see it was bandaged. "When the wound unlocks entirely, thy time in America wilt end." _

_"I will-"_

_"Back to Verona, aye," Romeo said. "Trouble yourself not; learn the family trade. Meet new people. Thou will prosper, I know it."_

_Benvolio blinked back tears that had formed all too quickly. "Will I ever see them again? Matt and Jake?"_

_Romeo and Mercutio exchanged a look. "I know not," Romeo said. _

_"Oh." Benvolio stopped to consider the thought. Losing new friends so soon… "Soft. How do thou know of them? Jake and Matt?"_

_They both chuckled. "We hath been watching thee, coz."_

_"Thou scared us out of our wits when thou from Verona disappeared," Mercutio chuckled. "Tis a good thing the angels helped us look for thee."_

_"I am sorry," Ben whispered, dropping his eyes from their gaze._

_"Wherefore?" Romeo's voice rang out incredulously. _

_"If…for replacing thee."_

_Mercutio chuckled again. "Benvolio, thou art still about as sharp as a handkerchief."_

_"Thanks."_

_"Thou still probably deludes that thou picketh thy own friends."_

_Benvolio raised an eyebrow. "Do I not?"_

_"Of course not," Mercutio answered. "Thy friends pick thee. And thou art an amazing man. Tis no wonder that Matt and Jake selected you."_

_Benvolio felt his cheeks flush at the unexpected praise. "So…thou never wished me dead with thee?"_

_Romeo whacked him over the head. "Ow!" Ben exclaimed. "For what did I measure that?"_

_"Life's an adventure," Romeo told him. "Of course we miss thee. Of course we desire thy presence. But I would not ask of thee, nor wish of thee, to die to join us."_

_"Thou only hast one life," Mercutio added. "Which, at present, thou should be living. Jake and Matt are lucky to have thee; do not forget that, Benvolio."_

_"And we hath studied them," Romeo continued, giving Ben a wink. "They art worthy or thy presence. We approve."_

_Ben rolled his eyes. "I'm not to marry them."_

_They both laughed. "Well, when thy doth marry-"_

_"We wilt be in attendance."_

_"And at the birth of thy son."_

_"Name him Luciano, will you?"_

_Benvolio and Mercutio both gave Romeo an odd look. "Luciano? Wherefore?" Mercutio asked. _

_"Luciano Montague," Romeo defended, blushing and looking away. "Has a nice ring to it. Tis what would be the name of mine son."_

_Mercutio rolled his eyes, but Ben nodded. "Aye," he said seriously. "T'will be an honor."_

_Mercutio smirked. "If thou hath a son. I cannot fathom that any woman would marry thee. I still cannot figure how Romeo seduced Juliet. It might forever be a mystery."_

_Romeo immediately entered a very heated discussion with Mercutio, saying what did he know about marriage, just about as much as you, you were married a grand total of one earthly day. Benvolio smiled and settled back onto his pillows. He'd missed this. _

_Finally noticed their third friend, Romeo and Mercutio settled down again enough to include him in the conversation. Romeo cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well…I am truly glad to see thee again. Tis a sorrow thy parting hath come so quickly." _

_"Aye," Mercutio added. "Good luck explaining Verona to thy friends; need it thou wilt."_

_Benvolio's mouth dropped. "What?"_

_"Thou babbled to Jake everything," Romeo said, a grin breaking over his features. "We almost thought thy secret would stay that the whole time."_

_"Ay me," Ben muttered, covering his face in his hands. "What will I tell them?"_

_Mercutio put his hand in his chin in mock thought. "Ah…methinks, mayhaps, the truth? This time?"_

_"They will think me mad."_

_"Nonsense," Romeo said, waving his hand as if he could brush the thought away. _

_"If any sense is theirs, they would have thought that long ago, anyhaps," Mercutio added. _

_Benvolio smiled back at them, taking them in for the last time. "Soft!" Romeo exclaimed. "Before thy departure, just a thought…stay away from Amelia."_

_Benvolio frowned. "Jake's sister? Wherefore?"_

_"Ah, her," Mercutio finally caught on. "Aye, she might mess the affects of the potion."_

_"She…well, thou figured Jake was like I, and Matt like Mercutio, yes?" Romeo asked. Ben nodded. "Well…she was supposed to be as thee."_

_"What!"_

_Mercutio nodded. "Just a thought," he said. Romeo agreed. He ran his hand through his hair and bit his lip. When he started twiddling his thumbs, Benvolio impatiently asked, "What is it, coz?"_

_"Well," Romeo repeated. "I… truly …this is where we part, cousin."_

_Benvolio swallowed. "Oh."_

_"Not forever," Mercutio interrupted, trying to lighten things up. "Till thy next life threatening injury. Tis bound to happen soon."_

_Benvolio nodded, ignoring the jab. "Till we meet again, then?"_

_"Aye," Romeo responded, taking his cousin's hand. "Till we meet again."_

_"Forever thy friends," Mercutio added, taking his opposite hand. He covered Ben's eyes with his other hand. "Now, sleep, before two American boys start screaming for blood. They'd be quite upset at thy death."_

_"Sleep well, coz," Romeo said. _

_Matt added, "Aye, sleep well."_

_Benvolio smiled, closed his eyes, and fell asleep._

* * *

_"Ay me!" Mercutio whispered to Romeo as they quietly exited Ben' room. "Art thou certain?"_

_"Aye," Romeo murmured back. "He'll remember naught. He shoudn't want to remember dying, anyways."_

_Together at the doorway, they took a last look back at their resting friend, who had slowly begun to breathe again. Romeo smiled sadly at the sound. T'was really just like Ben to not notice he hadn't any air in his lungs in his exhilaration of seeing his friends again. He was selfless like that- that was how he'd sustained the injury in the first place, he knew. Since he'd moved to America, he'd gotten worse, if anything. If he could do something for his friends, he would, never having a second thought. _

_Mercutio rarely contemplated things like that. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and Benvolio was Benvolio. Nothing would ever change that. Instead, as he looked back at his friend, he breathed a sigh of relief that this particular scheme had worked. It had been Mercutio that had noticed Ben's most recent fight. (Romeo, at the time, was off with a certain you-know-who) The next day, he'd mentioned his concern "Cast thy eyes on Benvolio, he sleeps longer than any creature on the earth," and told Romeo what had happened. Romeo was the one to plan out their entire plot. Mercutio was just the one to execute it. _

_Even if they were caught now (for surely they were not allowed to be here) it was worth it. One last conversation before Benvolio started turning into an adult. It was unnerving to think that Benvolio would marry, have children, and turn gray while he and Romeo stayed as adolescents. One last conversation and Benvolio probably wouldn't remember a speck of it. It wasn't fair._

_Mercutio tapped Romeo on the shoulder. "Our time," he said blankly, gesturing over his shoulder for them to go. _

_Romeo looked back. "He'll find peace," he said softly, worryingly, "will he not?"_

_"Of course he will," Mercutio reassured him. "This is Benvolio we speak of. He will grow and prosper, no matter where he goes. He's a good man, Romeo."_

_"I know," Romeo answered, finally tearing his eyes off his cousin. "I wish I could give him better."_


	24. Revealing Recovery

A/N: Sorry for the longer wait between chapters. Hope you enjoy! Not really much to say about this chapter. Like I said before, Ben remembers he had some sort of nice dream, but didn't remember what exactly it was about.

* * *

"Holy shist! Ben! BEN!"

"Jake! Calm down! He's fine."

"He wasn't BREATHING!"

"I think you were imagining it. He's fine, Jake, just look. Ben is fine."

"I'm telling you, his name's Benvolio Montague and he was born in 1307. He told me."

"Look, if he got hit on the head hard enough to be in a coma for a week, I'm sure it's perfectly reasonable that he temporarily thought he was a character from an English story."

"Matt, listen to me. I swear he was telling the truth."

"He had a bump on the back of his head the size of an egg! Severe traumatic brain damage! Some people have amnesia, Jake. Ben was just having…amnesia and fake replacement memories."

"He started teaching me how to talk in old English."

"Well…well…he always was smart."

"Oh, so he forgets who he is but still can teach me Shakespearian grammar?"

"Shut up, Jake! He can't just have time traveled forward 700 years!"

"It's the truth! I swear! And so will Benvolio, as soon as he wakes up."

"Would you stop calling him that? His name is Ben. Usually short for Benjamin."

"Since when has he, or us for that matter, been usual, Matt?"

"I'd say before we spent the entire week of Christmas shouting about our best friend while he snored like the living dead in front of us."

His head suddenly hurt again, and he had to struggle a bit more than he should have to focus on their conversation. Finally, he picked up on the major problem of the situation. "Oh, no," Ben groaned. "I slept through Christmas?"

He opened his eyes to the joyous shouts and laughter of Jake and Matt. They were both practically jumping up and down in excitement, screaming his name and babbling incomprehensible words. "Settle down," Ben commented, rolling his eyes. "Anybody would think I'm Santa Clause."

"Better!" Matt screeched. "You're Mother Nature herself!"

Jake just beamed at him. He quickly crossed the room and grabbed Ben's hand, briefly, before letting it drop. To cover his embarrassment the display of emotions, he stammered, "Well, it's about time you woke up."

Matt nodded his agreement. "Yeah. I was afraid you'd finally conked out for good."

"Sorry," Benvolio answered, frowning. "Where am I?"

"Hospital," Jake answered. "You've been here a while."

"A whale?" Matt interjected. "You mean a whale's butt load of time?"

Ben rolled his eyes at the bad joke. "You know, people where much nicer to me in my dreams. And my head didn't hurt so much."

Matt snorted. "Welcome back to the real world, my friend. Now, for future reference, please keep you head, hands, arms and feet inside the vehicle at all times-"

"And no jumping in front of guns for us," interrupted Jake. "When you fainted, that was quite possibly the scariest moment of my whole entire life."

"Second only to when he met me!" exclaimed Matt proudly, pointing his thumb at himself. "I'm Matt, by the way. In case you have amnesia."

Ben rolled his eyes again. "Oh, really? I thought you were my mother." Silence followed his words. "…That was a joke. By the way. I know who you are. And I really do hope you aren't female. That'd be so wrong."

Matt huffed. "If I was, I'd be so offended right now. I might just slap you for that."

"For what?" Ben asked incredulously. "Insulting your nonexistent womanhood?"

"Yep," Matt answered. "Exactly."

"Hey, Ben?" Jake asked casually-too casually. Ben glanced at Matt, who had a look of annoyance on his face.

"I'm not sure I ever told you this. I'm mildly allergic to raspberries."

"Ah…okay?" Ben replied, his words coming out more as a question. He had no idea where Jake was going with this. His mind worked in strange ways at the best of times.

"And Matt slept with diapers at night until he was seven," Jake continued.

"Did not!" Matt exclaimed loudly. Jake shot him a look. "Not when I was seven," Matt mumbled sullenly. "Six and a half, maybe."

Ben smirked, still not sure what Jake was going for. "And while we're sharing deep, dark secrets," Jake continued.

"Jake Lapet, you shared no such thing," Matt muttered.

Jake ignored him. "We were kind of wondering what your real name was. It's not Ben, is it?"

Benvolio sighed. So the day had come. He must have let something slip before he passed out. "Nay," he muttered. He looked up at the two pairs of eyes glued to his face, one blue, one hazel, and sighed. They were filled with eagerness and anticipation, and if he didn't know better, anxiousness. "I guess," He said softly, "I kind of spilled the beans, didn't I?"

Jake and Matt exchanged a look, almost afraid of what was coming next. "My name _is_ Benvolio Montague," he insisted quietly. "And I am the same one from the play you read about it school."

Jake and Matt looked at each other and started arguing again. "I told you so!"

"He obviously still hasn't recovered from his head trauma."

"He just admitted it!"

"He woke up from his coma ten minutes ago!"

"GUYS!" Ben yelled, stopping them in their paces. He looked at Matt. "If you think I'm mad, please, say it to my face."

Matt's expression of anger melted. "Aw, Ben-"

"I'll prove it too you," Ben insisted suddenly. "What must I say? Since you know, I can tell you everything now. No more hiding anything, I promise."

"Maybe you should just sleep-"

"Matt!" Jake yelled. "I want to know about his old life, even if you're still in denial. Don't tell me it's not possible. He's laying here right in front of us."

"Could you at least stay?" Ben asked, his eyes pleading. "I don't expect you to believe me, or even to care. But…if you could stay here, listen a little…"

Matt sighed. "Stop giving me that puppy dog face," he scoffed, "It's pathetic. Like I could say no, anyways. Jake here would beat me up."

Ben smiled. "Thank you," he said softly, bringing a hand to his chin. "Well, ah, I guess I could start at the beginning."

"That's usually-" Matt yelped when Jake elbowed him in the side. "Okay! I'm shutting up now!"

"Well, you already know Uncle is a Lord in Verona," he started slowly, picking up speed as he went on. "He was my father's older brother. My father was a leader in the military. Come to think of it, I don't know if he was a knight or not…all anyone would tell me was that he died a war hero. I don't know how. I never thought to ask my mother when I was young, and after that it was just easier to avoid the subject. I used to always take the easy way out. It took me a long time to figure out the easy way wasn't always best."

Jake and Matt didn't interrupt him as he sat, brooding. There was something different about voicing your thoughts out loud; it made them a bit more real, if anything. "My mother lived in Venice when she was young. She was the daughter of a merchant. I've never been to Venice. I don't know if I have any family on my mother's side, actually." He frowned. "I don't want to find them now."

"Why not?" Matt interjected, earning another elbow from Jake.

Ben sighed. "Well, they might take advantage of the fact that I'm nobility, since they're not."

Matt and Jake exchanged a look. The thought hadn't crossed either of their minds that their friend here, if he was who he claimed to be, was aristocratic. There was also the fact that the word nobility had slipped off his tongue so easily, as if he'd never thought of himself any other way. Ben continued, unnoticing of them, "My mother died just before I turned eight of fever. We'd been living in a smaller house, maybe about the size of yours, Jake, at the edge of the city."

"Jake's house is small-" Matt started incredulously, "-would you stop hitting me?"

"I was almost a year older than my cousin, Romeo," Ben continued, not acknowledging the comments. "I think it was actually ten months. My aunt, Lady Montague said we started playing together when I was five. When I was seven we went to primary school to learn Latin and figures and things."

"You didn't have to start school till you were seven?" Matt asked. "Lucky duck." Jake didn't elbow him this time.

"We met Mercutio there," Ben started, but was interrupted again.

"Was it a school for the entire town?" Jake asked, forgetting his own will to not interrupt. Matt rolled his eyes.

Ben just gave him a funny look. "Of course not. The common children have no need for school. It was taught by the monks, for the young nobility and clergy and whoever else could pay for it. It wasn't a large class. Maybe 20 of us. Romeo and Mercutio and I all learned the same material at the same time, since we were about the same age."

"What about Tybalt?"

Benvolio made a face. "He didn't move to Verona until I was about 14. I have no idea where he was before that, and I haven't a care, either, so don't ask. Where was I?"

"Primary school."

"Ah, yes. It was at the end of my first year of primary school my mother died. I didn't…well…" Ben shuddered inwardly a bit, remembering the dark times. "I suppose Uncle knew that his sister-in-law had passed away, but he didn't do anything about it. I think it was Romeo who insisted to his father that they had to come see me. He'd gotten worried when I didn't show up to school for a few days in a row. That was the first time I met my uncle."

Jake's jaw dropped. "You didn't meet your uncle until you were eight?"

"Yes."

"But you'd known Romeo for years!"

Benvolio shrugged. "He's a busy man. And tis a lady's job to look after the children. I'm sure he'd known of me."

Jake looked like he wanted to press the issue, but Ben continued before he had the opportunity. "Romeo didn't know my mother, his aunt, had died until that visit. When he found out he insisted point-blank to his father that I go home with them."

There was a pause. "Well, what happened?" Matt asked impatiently. "Spit it out."

"Uncle said I could, but just for the night. Then Romeo started an argument. I'd never disrespected my mother so. He was trying to order his father to keep me forever. His father tried to explain to him that my mother had left legal and financial issues behind her that he would have to deal with if he became my guardian. But we were kids; just beginning to realize things like that existed. Finally, they came to a compromise. A fortnight, I could stay, since Romeo felt so strongly for his family. Even praised him for his Christian love." Ben smirked. "Romeo was always a bit spoiled."

"You just stood there during the whole thing?"

"Yes," Ben answered, looking down.

There was a pause. "What happened?" Jake asked anxiously.

Ben looked at him for a second, startled out of his thoughts, before remembering the conversation and grinning. "Well, my things were packed, and a few servants and I moved into the Montague mansion that day. I never moved out."

Jake and Matt laughed with him, their happiness encouraging him to continue. "At first I stayed for Romeo's demands, but then I think Uncle came to the conclusion I was the reason he was doing so well in school (when he had such a short attention span at home) when he caught me trying to convince Romeo that the tree under his window wouldn't make a good landing spot. After that, he took care of everything with the Prince, so he might as well keep me."

"Mercutio was so mad at us when we both finally went back to school. Aunt had seen fit to give us a few days off to let me adjust to the new home. We explained the entire thing to him, but he still managed to 'accidently' knock our cloaks in the fire. Aunt wasn't happy with us."

Both Americans smirked at his troubles, before Jake asked again. "And after that?"

Ben shrugged. "We grew up, I suppose. Finished primary school when I was 11. We still had private tutoring in the afternoon, of course, and Uncle would try to pass on the family ways. I had other friends besides those two, but they never were around long. Especially with the whole Capulet thing. Those two were the ones I trusted. Mercutio pulled many pranks. I came to him when I was tired of Romeo being serious. I think he had fun being gloomy, deep down. Liked to see me squirm."

"Did you drink a lot?" Matt asked suddenly.

Ben was kind of taken aback. "What?"

"Come on, wasn't the drinking age practically nonexistent back then? Come on, when was the first time you got drunk?"

"Matt!" Jake yelled, flabbergasted, completely drowning out Ben's mumble.

"What was that?" Matt asked again, grinning from ear to ear, completely ignoring Jake.

"Thirteen," Ben mumbled. "I don't remember much."

Matt laughed out loud. "Ha! That's a good age, wouldn't ya say, Jake?"

"I wasn't out getting drunk when I was thirteen," Jake stated, raising an eyebrow at Ben, who flushed but seemed determined to keep his promise of not hiding anything.

"Trust me," Ben muttered, "There was heck to pay when we got home."

"You blame Mercutio?" Jake asked, smirking.

"T'was his fault!" Ben cried. "Enough of this. Obvious ye are not yet wise of the world."

"How old were you when you first had sex?" Matt asked, completely oblivious to any of his friend's wished.

Ben blushed a bright red. He was still unused to people in this century talking about it so openly. He was quite used to references and insinuations, but this was still _not_ how you were supposed to put things. In his embarrassment, he started looking anywhere in the room beside the two people there and held his fingers up in a little 'X'. The only word that escaped his lips was a "No."

"Is that a no, you don't want to tell us, or no, you haven't-"

"Shut up, Matt, he's red as a fire truck. Answer's obvious."

"Saint Jake, don't try to tell me that deep down you're not enjoying this."

"_Enjoy_ watching people suffer at the hands of my best friend?"

"There's no such thing as death by embarrassment, Jake. You know that. Otherwise you'd be long dead."

"Just ask your next stupid question already. And, by the way, drugs weren't invented yet, so don't ask."

"Fine…Ben, if you to obtain on obscenely large amount of money, legally of course, what would you do with it?"

Jake burst out, "What kind of stupid question is-"

"Hey!" Matt shouted. "I wasn't asking you! You can answer, Ben."

Ben felt the fire in his cheeks receding a little. Not an awkward question, at least. "I'm to be the next Lord Montague," he said, not really paying attention to is words. "I already have on obscenely large amount of money."

He looked up, puzzled, at the silence that met his words. If not a laugh or a comment, he'd at least expected some sort of reaction. "What?" he asked curiously. "You can't have run out of things to say already. You haven't nearly annoyed me enough yet."

They still both sat there in a sort of shock. Ben started to get worried. "What is it?" he asked anxiously. "Was it…did I say something bad?"

Jake and Matt exchanged a look. "No…" Jake answered slowly.

"Well, what is it then?"

It took them a while to answer. Finally, Matt started, "Ben…Benvolio…I think I believe you…I just didn't realize…"

"Oh," said Ben, pacified. "It's okay. I thought you two were a dream for months. I freaked out when I realized, too."

"It's not just that," Jake responded slowly. "It's just…well…did you hear yourself just now?"

"I know. Who has a dream that lasts months, right? I just took me a while to…" Ben trailed off, partly because he was wondering whether he had yet mentioned the Jake/Romeo, Matt/ Mercutio similarity, and partly because he didn't like the look on their faces.

"Not that," Jake expressed. "The…you're going to be the next Lord Montague?"

Ben nodded uncertainly, having no idea where this was going. "Well, yes. The original heir can't exactly do it. And my uncle says we have relatives in western France, but… he hasn't spoken to them in a while. So, yes. It's me."

"And you're rich?" Matt asked faintly, not sounding like himself at all.

Ben bit his lip. "It's family money. So what?"

"So what?" Matt echoed, slowly gaining back his attitude. "So what? So I just learned my best friend is actually a famous figure from the past and he's about to be the next king or something. You're right. So what?"

"I'm not any different!" Ben exclaimed. This is exactly why he hadn't wanted to tell anyone.

"Yes you are!" Matt shouted.

"Matt," Jake started, trying to calm him.

"Shut up, Jake!' Matt yelled. He whirled back to Ben. "You! How could you-you-ahh!" He started stomping around the room in frustration, pointing a finger at Ben as he spoke. "Benvolio Montague! That's not what your name is supposed to be!"

"But-" Benvolio didn't know what he was going to say; only that anything would be preferable to this.

"I thought I had you all figured out!" Matt said. "But every time, every day there's something new! Oh, my friends died. Oh, my friends weren't in a car crash, they were murdered in front of me. Oh, my friends were famous Shakespeare characters. And guess what? I'm one too! But even though they died, I some still have room in my big stupid heart for two more best friends that I would shot for. Because I'm such a good flipping person!"

Matt clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. "How do you do that?" He accused. "How can you be such a good friend after the tragedy you just lived through? How can you be such a good friend without telling us a thing about your life? How could you be such a good friend and lie to us the entire time you've known us?"

He waited. The end of his outburst was unexpected and abrupt. Ben looked up, caught a glimpse of Matt's face, and quickly looked down again the white sheets. He still said nothing, the silence demanding a response. "I'm…sorry…" Ben started, his voice raspy. He wet his lips and continued. "I…didn't mean to."

Matt snorted. "Didn't mean to? Didn't mean to what? Didn't mean to lie to us? Didn't mean to use a fake name? Didn't mean to let us know your real one? Didn't mean to-"

"I didn't mean to have you to as my friends!" Benvolio shouted. "It just sort of happened!"

Matt shut up for a second, less than a second, before his face got as red as a fire truck and he started screaming. "Oh, I get it now! So me and Jake visiting you every day during _Christmas_ was just a mistake on your part! Because you never wanted us around in the first place! You didn't want two wannabes who could never be as good as your real friends! You never planned to actually care about us! You-"

"YOU'RE RIGHT!" Ben shouted back. "Way back when I first got here, a never planned to make new friends, because I didn't think I'd ever have any. I didn't think anyone else would possibly want me. And I never planned to care about you! Somehow I just got attached to you anyways! Somehow you two became my two very best friends! And it was torment to me, how you were my friends and I wasn't really yours. I'm so sorry I lied to you. Please let us still be friends. Please."

Matt paced agitatedly across the room. Ben looked at Jake fearfully, who just gave him a sympathetic look. It was the fact that Matt was stopping to think about what he was going to say that scared him the most. Matt was a lot of things, but thoughtful was not one of them. Ben really didn't know what else he could say. He'd said what happened; now all he could do was wait.

"I thought my friend's name was Benjamin Mantahue," Matt started, his voice slightly shaky, "and he was a foreign exchange student from England. But that's not him."

Ben swallowed, resisting the urge to say something else, because Matt wasn't done. "But it turns out all of those facts I knew about him was wrong. His name in Benvolio Montague, and he's…still a foreign student, I guess, except he's from Italy. I could say everything I knew about him was wrong. But if I did-"

Ben's heart felt like it was leaping to his throat.

"-then I'd be a liar. He's still Ben. He's still smart and quiet and a sleepyhead and suck-up to the grownups and has quite a temper in private." He gave Ben a look that was almost a smirk. "And he's still never quite going to tell us all of his secrets. But nevertheless, he's my friend."

Ben tried to hide the fact that tears where welling up in his eyes. Jake said, from the side of the room, "Well, congratulations, drama king. Did you enjoy giving all those theatrical speeches?"

"Ben here's a theatrical character! I thought he'd understand that type of talking best!"

"Good thing he has you, then."

"Hello, pot. I'm the kettle. Who's calling who a drama king?"

"You are insufferable."

"You don't know the meaning of the word, Lapet."

"Actually, I don't. I just read it in a book somewhere and thought it sounded like a good insult."

Matt snorted. "Smart people."

A woman Ben assumed was a nurse walked in, doing a double take when she realized Ben was awake and listening politely to the two teenagers that had practically refused to leave his bedside for the last week. As she started chattering cheerfully and checking the various medical equipment, Ben allowed himself a small smile. It was good to be back.


	25. Eavesdropper's Events

A/N: Another chapter involving our main female character. =) When I started this, I really didn't mean for it to be so unbalanced, genderwise. It's funny, isn't it? Anyways, this chapter really sets up all the last problems Ben and the gang will face. The end is near. Please read & review! Thank you!

* * *

"She talked to Tyler and the rest of everyone else. There won't be anymore incidents like that one. The Mients and the Katts won't be bothering each other anymore."

Matt smirked and rolled his eyes. "So lover boy here can date his girlfriend in peace."

Ben laughed out loud at the usual comments. It was January, and they had been back in school with three days without a problem in sight. Ben didn't quite know why no teachers were talking about the gun incident to him, but they weren't so he didn't question it. Some students shot him strange looks in the hall, but that was all the attention he got.

"Matt, if you found a girl like Raina, you wouldn't be talking," Jake answered, smiling. Only when he was thinking of Raina did he say anything to his friends without teasing them, but he tried not to chat their ears off about her.

"Just promise me you won't get married until she's 18," Ben said warily. Jake and Matt exchanged a look and rolled their eyes again, writing it off as another one of Ben's promises he liked them to make so he could feel like he actually was protecting them.

"Ben, you're such a-"

"Promise," he insisted.

"Fine," Jake huffed, "I promise. You're coming over, aren't you Matt?"

"I dunno, I really think I might have better things to do…" Matt answered, his actions betraying his words as he followed them onto the bus and picked an adjacent seat. They continued chattering all the way to Jake's house, where they were greeted inside by Ami.

Amelia Lapet. For some reason, Ben always found himself being a bit more wary whenever she was around. Eventually, she'd realized that he wanted to keep his distance from her and wouldn't befriend her as he had Jake. Ben got this unpleasant guilty feeling from continually rebuffing her, but he felt he had to. For some reason, he didn't trust her any more.

Matt, having known Ami for many years now, had no such problems. "Hey Little Lapet! How long you hanging around the igloo before the bird flies south again?"

She gave a small smile. "A week and a half."

Matt groaned. "Don't say that." He sunk into a dramatic feint on the couch. "That's when midterms are."

"Semester ends," Jake added gloomily.

"I go home," Ben finished, sitting down himself and putting his head in his hands. Matt shot up.

"Wait. You're leaving the last day of the semester?"

"Yep," Ben announced morosely.

"But-" Matt stopped himself with a look at Ami, and then a look at Jake, who sighed.

"Hey Ami," he asked, "Could you leave us alone?"

She frowned a little hurt. "But no one else is home…and I'm bored…"

"Oh, come on," Jake argued. "Go already. We'll talk to you later."

"No you won't," she said, glaring at her brother. "You never do. You used to but now you don't."

Jake put a hand up to his hair. "Ami, just…come on. Guy stuff. Get out of here."

With a little more arguing, she finally left the living room, stomping up the stairs angrily. Matt and Jake also looked a little uneasy for causing her a bad mood, but that might have just been the other matter on his mind.

Matt was now sitting upright stiffly on the couch. "Ben, what do you mean you're leaving the end of semester? How?"

Ben shrugged. "I don't know. I told you, it was a magic potion that got me here. Landing on the vial is what got me this." He gestured to the place on his arm where the scar would be, if not covered by clothes.

"But how do you know the potion will run out end of semester?" Matt refused to accept the situation.

Ben shrugged again, frowning to himself, not quite sure how he got the knowledge. "I just…do."

"So now he's physic, on top of everything else," Matt mumbled, but didn't question it.

Ben flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Well…" he muttered, guiltily fingering the cuff of his left sleeve.

Matt didn't pick up on it, but Jake did. "Well, what?" he asked, eying Ben's long sleeve tee shirt. Maybe he had a paper he was hiding up his sleeve or something. "How do you know?"

"Well, there is just the feeling," Ben said quickly. Matt snorted at the response, earning himself a wounded look. "I'm serious," Ben said, but then he looked down again, still fingering his sleeve. "You remember my scar? The one I got from landing on the bottle that contained-"

"You just told us, Ben," Jake said dryly.

Ben flushed. "Oh. Right. Well, anyways, did I ever tell you it glows?"

Jake and Matt exchanged a look. "Nope," answered Matt. "Afraid you forgot to mention that one, pal."

"It glows blue," Ben told them, "the same color of the potion, every once it a while. It's starter glowing brighter now, longer. I think its leading up to something."

A smirk slowly grew on Matt's face. "Ben, I've think you just surpassed the most popular book figure in the world."

"I did?"

"Yeah, think about it. Harry Potter's scar never glowed. You've totally got him beat! Benvolio Montague and the Time Traveling Glowing Scar! I like that. Has a much better ring to it. You should write a book."

Benvolio raised his eyebrows. "Gee, sounds like fun. Not that's there's a famous play studied all over the country that I debut in or anything."

This drew a laugh out of his friends, if a short one that faded quickly. "So, a week and a half," Jake mused. "That's still a decent amount of time."

"It's not a very long time at all!" Matt responded, looking at Jake as if he was crazy. "Moron! What happened to 'you're going to graduate here?' I thought you meant it."

"Shut up, Matt. I meant it and you know it."

"Matt," Ben started gently, but he was ignored. Funny, that the two people who would miss him most seemingly spent most of their time ignoring him.

"How can you just give up?" Matt shouted, squeezing the arm of the couch so violently that his knuckles turned white.

Jake jumped to his feet and roared, "BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO!" He stood there, breathing heavily, closing his eyes as he tried to reign in his temper. Ben was a bit surprised when his eyes opened again and he found tears there. "Darn it, there's nothing we can do. He's Benvolio Montague, Matt. He has a fantastic life waiting for him back at his home. Matt, he's going to be a Lord of Verona. He has a house and a family and practically all of Italy waiting for him. He's only here by mistake. It's been a great mistake, but Benvolio Montague isn't from this time. And there's nothing we can do to keep him here."

"I am right here, you know," Ben pointed out.

Matt waved a hand in his direction. "Sure you are, Ben buddy Ben." He sighed before also standing up and starting to pace.

"I wish I could stay," Ben announced. "Do you guys know that you are the best pair of 16-year-olds I've ever met?"

Jake blushed at the subtle reminder of Romeo and Mercutio's deaths. Matt just rolled his eyes and started. "No offense, amigo, but you're not exactly that social."

"I'm serious!" Ben said. "You guys are great. I would do anything for you two."

"You don't really need to say it," Matt smirked. "I think you proved it to us enough. If you did any more proving of it, you'd be done for."

"So…you're not mad?" Ben asked.

Jake snorted. "Of course not. You can't do anything about it, either."

Benvolio smiled widely. "I knew you would understand!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet in excitement. He resisted the urge to tackle the two of them in a hug. "You two have no idea how much this means to me. This is- this is-"

"The most wonderful thing to happen to you in your whole poor pathetic life?"

"Yes!" Ben exclaimed. Jake snorted, elbowing Matt's side.

"What?" Matt asked Jake. "It's no like he's exactly had a lot of good things happen to him before now."

The thought caused Jake to pause. "You're right," he mumbled, staring off into the distance.

Ben frowned, only just catching on to what they were saying. "Wait. Matt. Did you just call me pathetic?"

"What? No! Pathetic? You, the guy who didn't know what electricity was, still believes in lake monsters, hasn't had sex when your cousin Romeo was married and getting it on younger than you, and actually studies for fun?"

"That's better than being a shrimpy dumb blond who makes awful jokes, thinks he's a therapist, and writes bad poetry to the girls he likes!"

"Ben, you're just jealous that you don't have my way with words."

"That's it!" Jake burst out. Benvolio and Matt turned to stare at him.

"Jake Lapet," Ben said, mock-offended, clutching his arms dramatically to his chest. "How dare you agree with Matt? I thought we had a policy on proving him wrong about everything."

"Hey!"

"No, not about whatever nonsense Matt was sprouting off this time," Jake explained, ignoring said friend as he proclaimed his indignity. "Look, you're leaving soon, and let's face it; your life hasn't exactly been blue skies and rainbows. I propose we do something to let you really remember America 2010 by."

"It's 2011 now, smart one."

"I didn't ask you, Matt. Anyways, all for the next week and a half to be the best days of Benvolio Montague's life, say aye."

Matt smirked. "Like I'd actually do that. Come on, Ben. What do you want to do first?" Jake rolled his eyes, but turned to Benvolio anyways, waiting for the reply.

Benvolio froze. "Wait…you two are going to do this…for me? Shouldn't you be studying for midterms?"

Matt laughed out loud while Jake waved his hand as if he could wave the word out of the air. "Midterms, shmidterms. You're way more important than that."

"Besides," Matt added, "I've already had to take a ridiculous amount of midterm examinations in my life. How many times to I have to say goodbye to a best friend?" There was a silence following his words, as each of them actually considered the question.

"More than once…I hope," Ben answered softly.

Jake and Matt visibly perked up. "So you'll be back? We'll see you again?"

Their expressions made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. "I don't know," he answered softly. "I'd like that, but…I don't know."

"Don't go," came a whisper, so soft that Ben almost didn't hear it. Matt swallowed. "If you like it here so much, don't go."

"I don't think I'll have a choice," answered Ben. Matt nodded, his blue eyes distant and unfocused.

Jake cleared his throat, wishing that could clear the bad mood, as well. "Right then," he said awkwardly. "We still have time. What first?"

Ben smirked. "You know, we never did build an army of angry snowmen in front of Mr. Hebrew's house…"

* * *

Ami Lapet sat frozen behind the door of the living room, still barely breathing as the three boys made a racket on their way pulling on snow gear and leaving the house. She couldn't believe they were actually going to go- no, that wasn't the problem here.

The problem was that the nice, quiet, wary-of-her exchange student from England was actually Benvolio Montague from Verona, Italy. Just in case she hadn't been eavesdropping, Jake had screamed in loud and clear from across the house. He'd also said something about not being from this time. Quite a few things, actually. And then Matt added the part about having a married cousin named Romeo. It was insane.

Well, she had always considered her brother and his friend insane, but this was different. Jake and Matt were actually convinced that…there was no other way to put it….Ben was actually a main character from the most famous playwright's most famous play.

That was impossible, Ami argued with herself. That would mean prove a bunch of things that couldn't be true accurate. One, it would mean that _Romeo and Juliet _was an actual recording of actual events, not a work of fiction. Two, that would mean time travel. Three, it would mean that Ben wasn't…Ben. True, they rarely spoke directly to each other, but they still lived in the same house and she saw him every day. And he…didn't _seem _like he was born seven centuries ago.

"_He seems a lot of things. Seems being the key word."_

She hated how she could never get her older brother's voice out of her head. Somehow he always had the right thing to say. Stupid Jake.

…She only said that. Jake wasn't stupid; he was very smart. So why had he sounded so convinced that Ben was…well…not Ben? Jake couldn't have been playing a joke –he had never been that good an actor. And she hadn't thought Ben was the kind to completely trick people. Or drive them insane.

_He doesn't SEEM like the type?_

Shut up, she ordered the Jake-like voice in her head. So…logically…Jake must believe that Ben was from 700 years ago. Either he was completely insane, or…

There's no way it could be true. Could it?

Matt had believed it too. That was another tricky part. Matt, the skeptic, who dated girls for maybe a week at the longest. Matt, who had a hard time accepting anything seriously. He was convinced, too.

Benvolio Montague was living in her house. Blimey. She cringed at the thought. Her brother was going to have a lot of explaining to do…sometime later. She wasn't sure she could handle a confrontation now.


	26. Leering Lesson

A/N: Alright, my poor readers. I know it's been forever and a week (or maybe two) since I've updated. I shouldn't have kept you waiting this long! I feel bad, I really do. Alright, this is a bit of a filler chapter. I think that Ben had it coming, though, as soon as he told his friends. Preview for the next chapter: well, Ami stars again.

Reviewers will be highly appreciated! I'd love to know how you think I'm doing. I'm positive it's far from perfect.

* * *

I would love reviews! Please, tell me how I'm doing! I'm positive it's far from perfect

"Pay heed, class," Mrs. Midler said, rapping on the white board. "The midterm is nigh."

Benvolio rolled his eyes from his position in the back corner of the classroom. After reading the play _Romeo and Juliet_, the English class had moved on to several other works of Shakespeare, along with other classics that were from relatively the same time period. The teacher had somehow gotten the idea that speaking in Shakespearian English would help the class remember more information.

In reality, it sounded very forced and completely fake. Like Jake and Matt's attempts to do the same.

Yes, after school for the last week Jake and Matt had been increasingly interrogating him more about his background ("Wait wait wait. Ben. What did Montague Mansion use as a bathroom?") and attempting to participate in the same activities as he had, back in Verona.

His conclusions; never trust Matt with any sort of weapon, considering the damage he had done after 10 minutes in a fencing studio.

"Questions?" The English teacher asked, flicking through her own notes. "We've done _Macbeth_ and _Julius Caesar _fairly recently. The sonnets weren't difficult. As long as you can answer questions about the structure of a sonnet and theme of each we studied, you should be fine."

Benvolio groaned inwardly. That meant today they would be reviewing…

"That leaves _Romeo and Juliet._" The teacher finished. The response was an audible groan from the rest of the class, who hadn't like the play much either. However, Ben had learned to brush off comments like, 'that's so fake' and 'like that would ever actually happen' a long time ago.

"Can anybody tell me the names of the main characters?" Mrs. Midler asked the class. She wrote down the names as students called them out. And after all of the main character's names were there, she proceeded to have a review discussion on each of them.

It wasn't really any different than it had been in the fall, except now Jake and Matt kept shooting him uneasy glances every once in a while. That made it harder to zone out than usual, to the point that Ben had to resort to doodling to keep his mind off things. It wasn't what he usually did, but there was something comfortable in the pattern of his pencil tracing right angles…

Something poked him hard in the back, forcing his out of his daze. Ben swore a little under his breath as his arm jerked, drawing a heavy line all over the desk. He glared at Jake, who pointed to the front of the room and then continued on his walk to "get a tissue."

"Who was Benvolio?" the teacher was saying.

Great. This is exactly what he needed.

He looked back down at his paper – now almost completely covered with dark lined squares – and sighed. "Romeo's cousin," one of the smart girls in the class was saying. He sat through symbolic reference (pointedly ignoring Matt's smirk as the teacher mentioned the similarity between Benvolio and Benevolent _again_) and through what scenes he appeared in. Jake poked him in the back again as they went through the last part, character analysis.

"This was not a particularly strong character in the play," Mrs. Midler said, "but let's see what we can come up with. Strengths?"

Kids raised their hands after a few seconds. "Family loyalty." "Peacekeeper." "Survivor." He tried not to roll his eyes.

"What do you think his weaknesses are?" the teacher asked the class. Matt sent Ben a wicked smile and raised his hand.

"Matt?"

"Well, he probably had a bad temper in private, like Mercutio said," Matt answered, smirking. "I also bet he liked to sleep in."

The teacher raised an eyebrow while Jake shook with silent laughter. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, just look how unsuccessful he was at breaking up the fight in scene one," Matt pointed out. "He said it was before nine in the morning. I bet if it was in the afternoon, he could have stopped it. I bet he had just gotten out of bed. In fact, I'm surprised Benvolio was out of the house before nine in the morning-"

"Enough, Mr. Zebulon," the teacher interrupted. "If you are going to claim such presumptions as that, at least use correct evidence."

Jake snorted as Matt answer defiantly. "My evidence was correct. Benvolio Montague is not a-"

"You claimed that if the fight was in the afternoon Benvolio could have stopped it," the teacher continued smoothly. Yet, the fight in scene three was in the afternoon, and Benvolio could not stop two deaths."

Ben stiffened in his seat. "That was different," he called out before he'd even thought about it. The teacher turned to him, a smile across her face that the quietest student in her class was participating in the discussion. She didn't even reprimand him for not raising his hand.

"Why do you say that, Ben?" she encouraged eagerly.

He shrugged, trying to stay calm and block out the memories of blood at the same time. "Well, wasn't Romeo there, breaking it up? He'd gotten Mercutio and Tybalt to put their swords down."

"Yes, but then-"

"Then Tybalt evidently showed that for all his talks of family honor he had none," Ben cut her off, his fact dark. "Stabbing Mercutio when his sword was down and he wasn't looking. You call that a fight?"

The teacher continued, her own eyes growing steely as a result of Ben's intense glare at his desk, retaining her authority. "If I remember correctly, Mr. Mantahue, we were talking about that if Benvolio had been a stronger character he could have stopped the deaths."

Ben, as he had been fidgeting around in his seat, froze. Jake and Matt exchanged a look. "What was he supposed to do?" he said quietly.

"What do you think, class?" Mrs. Midler asked, looking around. "Was Benvolio Montague not brave enough to stop the fight? If I remember correctly, Romeo did ask for his assistance."

"The best way to stop a fight is not by jumping in between them! You'll only get stabbed yourself!" Ben half-yelled, jumping forward in his seat. The rest of the class was also exchanging glances, wondering what was wrong with Ben today. "And if anything, Romeo should have been watching Tybalt more closely! Just having an arm in the way, which Tybalt made pretty clear that he didn't care for in the slightest-"

"We were _not _discussing Tybalt, Mr. Mantahue! If you're going to contribute to the class, please stay on the topic of Benvolio being nothing but an idle bystander-"

"Have you ever considered the fact that this same thing happened many times?" Benvolio yelled. "Mercutio and Tybalt were the hotheads, they probably always got in fights, Benvolio was probably just relieved that Romeo was the one breaking it up for a change."

"Exactly!" the teacher said. "If Benvolio had just taken matters into his own hands, the tragedy wouldn't have happened. In that way, the whole thing could be Benvolio's fault, even more so that he claimed to be a peace lover but then did nothing as his friends-"

"You know NOTHING!" Ben yelled, jumping out of his seat. Jake and Matt weren't the only ones to exchange an alarmed look. "Would you rather have Benvolio be another blood drunk idiot walking around killing people because he can? What the hell was he supposed to do?"

"Language, Mr.-"

"To the devil with language," he snarled. Jake also jumped to his feet as Ben's hands curled into fists. "Benvolio was the only one in that entire play, just about, that never wished anyone dead! But apparently deciding not to kill people makes you idle and lazy! You're right, lady, Benvolio obviously should have killed Tybalt in the first place. After all, who needs Benvolio? He's just some peace loving fool! Boring, not a main character! After all, he was never a homicidal or suicidal manic, so he's of no use to society."

"That's enough, Mr.-"

"Shut up!" Ben shouted, continuing on his sarcastic rant. "I'm trying to prove you right about how the whole thing is BENVOLIO'S fault that half the youth of Verona are dead. You're right! He deserved to live through all the bloody aftermath! The funeral after funeral after funeral and seeing your cousin buried with a girl that he'd obviously never felt I was important enough to introduce to-"

Jake slapped his hand over Ben's mouth, wrestling his friend into a headlock. "He's just stressed!" he yelled as he dragged Ben towards the door. Matt jumped up also and tried to help.

"Poor kid," Matt added. "He's already studied Shakespeare back at his old school, you know. Maybe you should just excuse him from the exam. He doesn't like to be proven wrong. We'll just be out in the hallway, doing…um…yoga…and other calming exercises…yeah…" he retreated from the room and shut the door behind him.

He turned to find Ben glaring venomously at Jake. He was the very vision of righteous anger: his hair was every which way, his chest was heaving, and his eyes were narrowed and glaring. All the blood rushing to his tanned face just made his skin look darker and opposed to more red.

"What the fu-" he started growling, but Jake cut him off, taking a mimicking stance.

"What's going on with you?" Jake asked. "You were about to blow your secret to the whole school."

"Yeah," Matt interjected, "Never exactly thought of you as the sarcastic type, mate." His weak jab didn't work in lightening the mood.

"Did you hear those things she was saying?" Ben hissed, almost shaking with rage.

Jake sighed, letting his arms drop to the side. "Yeah, I did. She didn't mean to, Ben. She'd never insult-"

"She just _did_ insult me to my face," Ben retorted.

"But she didn't realize it!"

Ben shouted in frustration and marched off, banging his fist against the nearest wall. "This isn't fair!" he yelled. "Why the heck is that story a stupid play? What's with all the people criticizing me and my friends on something so personal? You don't just go into other people's business like that and point out their faults."

Matt sighed also, slowly coming up and putting a hand on Ben's shoulder. "It's not fair," he said, strangely somber again. "But…if it helps…I feel like its let me understand you better."

"Me too," Jake added quickly.

They waited as Ben took several deep breaths…_one, two, three_…and turned around to face him again, his brown eyes calm again. "Thanks," he said bluntly, a little embarrassed. "I shouldn't have let it get to me. I know."

"It's noth-"

DDDIIINNNGGG.

Ben smiled grimly. "School's over," he said simply, turning to his locker as kids started rushing out of their classrooms. Jake grabbed Matt's shoulder before he could also walk away.

"Come over?"

Matt smirked. "Oh, that's right. I forgot I don't live at your house."

"See ya."

"You need a car, my friend."

"I know, Matt. Tell my parents, please. Later."


	27. General Guidance

A/N: As it slowly gets longer and longer between updates, I can only hope all of you guys aren't too mad at me. This story will have three more chapters: Ben leaving America, and then a two part epilogue. Readers, I need your help. Benvolio is at the airport. How does he make a dramatic goodbye? Something involving Ami and a logical reason for getting a wound on his arm. I'd love to hear what you guys think.

Anyways, this chapter is another big Ami scene. Ben basically wants to make sure things in America will be fine after he leaves. Enjoy!

* * *

Today's the day, Ami thought, bouncing forward and back on her heels. She'd been hiding out in the kitchen, waiting for the boys to come through the back door as usual, for ten minutes. Her thoughts were racing. I better do it now; I only have a week before I go back to school. Today's the day. I find out where Ben's actually from. Maybe I was just imagining it. After all, nobody's actually from…but…Jake sounded so sure. And it made sense, really. The funny accent, the 'dead friends' Jake had mentioned, that weird feeling of recognition she got whenever he was nearby…

"Do you think maybe she'll excuse me from the English exam too?"

"In your dreams, Matt."

"Oh, come on. Maybe if I started screaming about how Mercutio was just misunderstood-"

"She'll think you're crazy."

"She already thinks that."

"Shut up, you two. Ben, you have no room to talk."

"Yeah, but I'm leaving, remember? You're the one who'll have to deal with her for the rest of the year."

"Psssh. Logic."

Steeling herself, Ami walked around the corner of the kitchen and into the backdoor hall. It was only to be expected that she'd have to deal with all three of them. They barely left each other's sides. "Leaving for where?" she asked brightly, trying to keep her smile genuine.

"Home," Jake answer for Ben, smiling back at his sister. Matt nodded to her, throwing down his coat on top of his backpack. Ben, as usual, stiffened uncomfortably and remained silent. She would have scowled at his odd behavior if she could. Why didn't he like her? He could know that she knew…

"Oh, England, was it?" Ami continued, following them into the kitchen as they plundered for snacks. "Whereabouts, exactly?"

The three of them exchange a look, Ben stuffing a cracker into his mouth to avoid answering. An awkward silence filled the room. "Um…Dublin!" Matt answered. Jake winced, but didn't comment.

"Dublin," Ami echoed skeptically. "That's funny. I thought that was Ireland."

"He means new Dublin," Jake told her, trying to save the conversation. "It's a smaller town. In England. Where Ben is going."

Matt muttered something that she couldn't catch, but earned his an elbow in the side from Jake. She pretended not to notice.

"You know, most people are surprised that Ami is my nickname," she said, leaning on the table.

Jake eyed her warily, wondering why she was still here. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, looking at all of them. "Amelia really isn't that common a name. Ami can usually stand by itself. Like Jake. Or Matt. Or Ben," she continued, her eyes landing on the last figure.

"These two really don't deserve such normal sounding names, weirdoes that they are, huh?" Matt commented. Jake cleared his throat, clearly not liking where the situation was headed, but Ami continued unperturbed.

"Ben's not short for anything, is it?" Ami asked slowly, tilting her head.

"Actually, it is," Ben answered shortly, giving her a quick look before straightening completely. "I'll be back in a bit," he offered, quickly making his way towards the door. He had a hand on the frame when she called out,

"I know your secret."

All three of the boys stiffened, before Matt started, "Yeah, so you found out about the diapers. This day had to come sooner or later"

"I know your name's Benvolio," she said, ignoring Matt, who continued to try to distract her.

"Benvolio? What a weird name!" Matt interrupted. "Jake, I think you're sister's finally gone nuts. Really-" Nobody was paying attention to him. Jake was studying Ami, who was scrutinizing Ben, who hadn't moved from the doorway. He stood there, one hand on the frame, his back to them, fighting a battle.

"And I know you're the same one from the play," she said again. The only reaction that she could she was his shoulders tensing a little bit- that minute sign was all. "You're not from England," she continued, "You're from Verona. Italy."

"-Really, go to the mental institution or something, because-"

"Shut up, Matt." Jake and Ami both had their mouths open, but Ben had beaten them to the punch. He turned slowly, a strange expression on his face. It wasn't blank. It was focused; like Ben was concentrating so hard on her than if he stopped she would cease to exist. He bent down the six or so inches he was taller than her so they were at eye level and spoke quietly into her face.

"Amelia Lapet, I have another secret to tell you," he said softly. He was so close that she could feel the breath on her face.

She didn't move, feeling awkward and scared. Wait. Why was she feeling scared? Of Ben? He'd never hurt her. So why? "What is it?" she forced out, trying to calm her mind. It was strange, like these emotions weren't even hers…

Ben opened his mouth again, but then paused. _He_ seemed calm, at least. "You need to take better care of them," he finally said, as if after careful consideration.

She looked over her shoulder at Jake and Matt, who were both gazing at them curiously and muttering to themselves. As she watched, Matt smirked and Jake smacked him in the head. "Them?" she asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ben used a hand to roughly guide her face back so he could stare in her eyes again. "My name is Benvolio Montague. I am from Verona. I was born in 1307, and I did time travel here by magic. That's not important."

"What do you mean, that's not-"

"Shh." He quieted her immediately, eyes flicking above her head to double check that the other boys were out of hearing range. "You heard me. Look, you're a smart girl. I've seen you looking at my Latin books when you think I'm in the other room."

Ami blushed, wondering where exactly she had lost control of this conversation to Ben. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine," he said, his voice still showing no emotion. "Anyways, like I was saying, you're smart. You must have realized why I'm here."

She raised an eyebrow. "No. No, not really. I have no idea why there is a famous literary figure staying in my house. It's kind of freaking me out."

Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish people would stop calling me that," he said bitterly. "I'm in this house, Amelia, because you are not."

She blinked. "What?"

He bit his lip. "Or rather, was not. Look, I think I came here because Jake and Matt need someone to help them. Keep them out of trouble. A third musketeer, so to speak."

She raised an eyebrow, again. "You've completely lost me."

Ben looked up again at his friends, sighed again, and suddenly grabbed her arm. She yelped as his dragged her down the hall and into the first space he could find- a coat closet. He shut the door behind them, making the space very dark. Well, it was a rather large coat closet, like the rest of the house, but Ami still suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He was squeezing her upper arm uncomfortably tightly.

"Alright. So maybe you haven't thought about it like I have," Ben's voice came from somewhere above her, "but as far as I can tell, Jake and Matt and like Romeo and Mercutio, my two old best friends. You've heard of them, right?"

Ami nodded dumbly, forgetting momentarily it was dark and he probably couldn't see her very well, either. She cleared her throat and stated, "Yes."

"Good," he continued. "Well, if-"

"Wait," Ami ordered, wrenching her arms out of Ben's grip. "What did you just say?"

Ben paused. "Well, I said that as far as I could tell, Jake and Matt are-"

"Stop!" Ami yelled, bringing up both her arms as if they could shield her from the words. "I know what you said! That's crazy. Jake's not Romeo. He's not suicidal."

"I didn't think Romeo was either!" Ben snarled, but then took a deep breath to calm himself. "Sorry. Look, sometimes circumstances just…get out of hand really quickly. Trust me on this."

Ami blinked again. "So, Jake and Matt are reincarnations of Mercutio and Romeo."

"That's not what I said."

"Then what did you say?"

"I said they're _like_ Mercutio and Romeo. And don't believe any of that reincarnation crap."

"Why?"

Ben paused again. "I just believe that you'll get to see your lost ones again. With reincarnation, that would never happen. Just trust me."

"You're saying that a lot," Ami replied hotly, scowling in the dark. "You're some mysterious teenage guy I barely know. Why should I trust you?"

His expression was still hidden from her, even as she squinted towards his outline. She could hear the rustle of fabric as he folded his arms. "That's a good question," he mused. "A very good question. Well, Jake is like Romeo. Matt is like Mercutio. And you are like me."

Ami froze. "What?"

Ben laughed. "I had almost the same reaction when I figured it out. That's why you seemed so familiar, but I couldn't recognize you. Ami, I think I'm here to be a friend to Jake and Matt while you were away. I wondered where my character fit into your story." He looked down at her. "Never thought I'd be a girl."

Ami wrinkled her nose at the statement. "First of all, never, ever say that again. Second of all…" she trailed away as she tried to order her thoughts. He had no reason to lie to her, and there were a few similarities, but…

"I'm not sure what to think about this," Ami said honestly.

Ben nodded. "Alright. Just sleep on it, alright? Think it over? Promise?"

She looked up at the spot where she thought his face was. "Promise." She answered dully. There was no way at all she was like this brooding boy. How could the story possibly be real?

"TA DA!" Matt yelled, throwing the door open. Startled, Ben and Ami squinted in the sudden light flooding the space. Ben immediately started on a reprimand for not giving a warning, which went ignored.

"I told you they weren't making out in here," Jake said to Matt dryly. "That'd be gross."

"I never said it wouldn't!" Matt defended.

Ami felt herself flushing, while Ben jumped away from her and crossed his arm in outrage. "Ah! Matt! Really, would you think that of me?"

"You did kind of drag her into a closet. It was pretty sketchy."

Ben punched his arm. "I admit your brain is smaller than average, but at least pretend you have one. Why would you drag someone into a closet to make out when you both have bedrooms in the house?"

Matt smirked. "If you couldn't make it up the stairs."

Ben rolled his eyes. "This is my sister we're talking about here," Jake interrupted. "I'm going to assume that you two didn't mean one words of the conversation, especially because it didn't just happen."

Ami immediately knew why Jake was the favorite of the three boys. She nodded to him and scampered away, back up to her own room, as conversation started back up again behind her.

Three of them…a boy, his friend, and his relative…was she really meant to be the Benvolio of this time?

She pushed the thought away. _That's just weird, _she decided. I'm Ami. He's Benvolio. We are not the same. Not the same.

_Just similar_.


	28. Fond Farewell

A/N: AHH! I know, it's been forever. Over a month. Don't worry, the next one should only take a week or so. I've already started it. My excuse is that I had the hardest time figuring out how this was going to work. I had them in the airport for the longest time, but think this is better. I bet the next chapter will be the last, and then _maybe _there will be a shorter sequel. I did set up for it, a bit. I used an online translator for the foreign language again, so I apologize to anyone who would be able to tell the difference.

Your mission is 1: Read (and enjoy!) chapter. 2: Review saying what you thought about this one and thoughts about a sequel. I really value your guys' reactions!

~Bananna

Disclaimer: I do not own the play_ Romeo and Juliet_ by William Shakespeare from which I pulled Benvolio and based quite a few of my own characters and situations on.

* * *

It was a bit elegant in the way things all worked out. Benvolio had gotten to America by waking up in an airplane. It only made sense that he would leave by falling asleep inside of one. In hindsight, the answer was obvious.

No, the only wonder was that he had spent so long fretting about it. It was ridiculous, if he held himself to the intelligence standard that he did, that it would take him so long to figure this out.

So thought a boy on his last day of being Ben Mantahue, the foreign exchange student from England. It was Friday. The semester had ended today at Jake and Matt's school, and at the moment he was sitting in the room he had used as his bedchambers the last five months, frantically trying to fit all of the things that had come with him to America back into the bags. Personally, Ben wasn't sure it was worth it, and really didn't mind leaving some of the clothes behind (he'd never really gotten used to huge hoodies and winter coats) but Jake and Matt and Ami, who were all there in his room, all insisted on fitting everything they could into his bags. Benvolio, who had felt unusually weary all day, didn't want to expend the extra energy arguing vigorously with them.

"I won't be able to use that," Ben laughed weakly as Matt and Jake considered the best place to put his cell phone. "You might as well keep it."

"My parents would get suspicious," Jake replied, shaking his head.

Matt had no such problems. "Thanks!" he yelled, picking up the thing and pocketing it. "No one will have to know about this, got it? Alright, where should we put this?"

Ben wrinkled his nose. Ami, having a similar reaction, voiced his thoughts. "A math test?"

"Come on, Ben. I know you're going to miss these in the past."

"I got a 73 on it."

Matt waved the offended piece of paper in Ben's face. "I know. Maybe this'll remind you that you aren't that smart."

"Hey! Can't you be nice to me for one more day?" Ben protested as Ami laughed.

"You should take this," Jake interrupted, holding up something large and square with a dark blue cloth cover. A textbook.

Ben made another face. "Why do you two think I want to be reminded of school?"

Jake pushed the workbook into his suitcase anyways and tried to close the zipper - easier said than done. "Look, you didn't come here with any of your Verona things. How do you know you'll even have any of this when you get back?"

"Are you saying that we just spent the last three hours wasting our time?" Ami objected.

"Maybe," Jake grinned sheepishly, "And it was not three hours. We just ate desert."

His sister rolled her eyes. "No. I ate dessert. You three inhaled it."

"That was the best commemorative ice cream cake I've ever had!" Matt protested. "It was delicious! Worthy of being eaten as fast as possibly in order to get seconds before somebody else steals all of it."

"Inhales is a harsh word, sis," Jake said teasingly. "I prefer…thoroughly enjoyed."

Ami made a tsk noise and crossed her arms. "A rose by any other name still smells as sweet."

Ben watched as the three of them chatted across the room at each other, going through the last of his things and other stuff that might be there. They got along so well together. Trying to swallow the bittersweet taste in his mouth, Benvolio reflected on how they really didn't need him anymore.

And as much as he enjoyed their company, he really didn't need them.

_Crash!_

The three boys jumped and Ami shrieked a little as a vase, which had been holding flowers peacefully while resting on Ben's dresser, fell to the floor and shattered into dozens of shards, sending bits of broken glass and flowers and water everywhere. "Don't move," Jake ordered, as soon as he could find his voice. "Just…well, be careful. If we pick this up right away, Mom and Dad will never know where it went."

"They never came in here, anyways," Ami supported. "They probably don't remember it exists."

"Dibs not the vacuum," Matt said quickly, bringing up his forefinger to his face. "I say we do nose-goes."

Jake rolled his eyes. "I was thinking we go for the little more subtle dustpan and broom."

"I'm still not doing it."

"I will," Ami said exasperatingly, "Sheesh, you two would never get anything done."

"Need help?" offered Ben.

Jake snorted. "You are not working on your last day here. Matt's going to do it. I insist."

"What?" yelped Matt. "I am not! I'm a guest, too!"

"Are you sure? You seem to spend more time here than at your own house."

"But my family's always there," Matt whined.

"Congratulations," Jake said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You just figured out your family lives in your house. What next scientific study are you going to work on? How your brother is related to you?"

"My family's huge, Lapet, so shut up."

"Matt," Ben called out lazily, not trying very hard to get his two best friends back in line. He was feeling really tired all of the sudden. Like he'd just crashed off a sugar rush. He sent Ami a "help me" look.

"Maybe that's why you living in a _huge house,_ smart one."

"Oh, so are you jealous of it?"

"Guys," Ben moaned. "You're making my head hurt." They paid his whines no mind.

"If I was, do you think I'd let you come over here all the time?"

"Do you ever shut up or do you just like the sound of your own voice so much that-"

"That is such an old line, I think my dinosaur might have trouble recogni-"

"Guys!" Ami yelled as Matt reached over and shoved Jake as hard as he could. He never would have hurt his best friend on purpose; of course he sent Jake staggering backwards onto the bed. Unfortunately, that's what Ben was leaning against. As Jake fell backwards heavily onto the mattress, his arm knocked Benvolio off balance. He snapped himself awake with just enough time to spread his arms out to soften the fall a little bit as he hit the floor.

Was blood supposed to flash light that brightly?

"BEN!" "Ben!" "Ohmygosh, are you alright?"

"I'll live," Ben grunted as he pulled himself up, grimacing as pain streaked up his right arm. His head spun a little as he tried to lift it, gave up, and just looked hopelessly at his forearm.

_Big splinter._

Ami noticed his gaze and gasped as she saw it, running across to kneel beside him. "Ohmygosh," she repeated, this time in a hushed whisper. "Is that…is that…" she looked up tearfully at her older brother and his friend, who were standing stock still by the bedside, as if in shock. "Ben?" she said timidly.

He didn't bother to disguise the ragged breathing. He had run all the way from the friar's cell to the Montague mansion with the injury before. Surely he could stay strong now. "Don't look," he ordered, his voice rough as he tried to think as little as possible about what was happening. Ami nodded and squeezed her eyes shut.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Ben bit his lip, grimacing, as he pulled the shard of vase straight out of his arm. As he knew it would, it was right along the original scarline, with blood dripping from his wrist to his elbow. Wasn't there supposed to be a fatal artery along there that if you cut would make you bleed to death? It didn't matter. He'd be gone soon, anyways.

How did this happen?

As he expected, the blood wasn't its normal red color either. As he watched, the red glowed electric blue for a second and then started turning purple. Ben grimaced, tucked his arm in towards his side, and looked at the shard of vase. Of course there was purple dripping off of it, but the droplets on the side, where the water in the vase would have touched, were bright blue clumps of liquid. Like Friar Lawrence's potion.

"What was in this vase?" Ben asked, his voice surprisingly steady. "Water and flowers? What kinds?"

Ami opened up her eyes and looked around, her gaze avoiding been, searching in her memory and the flowers she could she on the floor. "A lot of kinds. Roses and lilies and tulips and violets…what's that yellow one with the black center? Something w-with eyes?"

"Black eyed susans," Matt responded, his voice unnaturally flat. He walked around to kneel next to Ami, a comforting hand rubbing her back. "Red clover, too. Ben…" he trailed off, looking to his friend for answers.

Ben wet his lips and took a huge breath, trying to collect as much air as possible. "Look at this," he said, tilting the shard of vase so they could see. "This blue stuff. That's the potion. The potion that brought me here. It must be made with this same collection of flowers."

Ami's brow furrowed, distracting herself with this problem from all the blood at hand. "But, Ben, some of these flowers look like they've been dead for who knows how long."

Ben shrugged. "It doesn't matter, exactly." He smiled a bit. "I'm finally going home…"

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind the three of them. They all turned their heads to Jake, who was still standing upright by the bed. Bed was shocked to see tears running down his face.

Jake bit his lips as he met their gazes for a split second, and then turned away. "I'm so sorry," he gasped, wiping furiously at his eyes. "This is all my fault."

Ben registered both Matt and Ami opening their mouths, but before they could say anything, Ben called, "Jake, come here."

Jake swallowed thickly, slowly coming over and sitting on the other side of Ben from Matt and his sister. "I'm so sorry," he repeated in a hoarse whisper. "So, so sorry."

Ben raised his good arm and embraced Jake, hugged him as Jake allowed himself to sob three times before pulling away. "This never would have happened if it weren't for me," Jake said as looked at the floor. "None of it."

"Jake-"

He turned to Ben abruptly, stopping Matt's sentence. "Are you really going to go?"

Benvolio nodded slowly. "Yes. You knew it."

"I knew it," Jake echoed. "Hell, this is all my fault."

"It is not!" Ben and Matt responded heatedly at the same time.

"Shut up, guys, it's easier when I can blame somebody."

They all shared a smile at something that wasn't really funny. Maybe for the last time, Ben realized. He cleared his throat. "Well, this is, um, goodbye."

There were three nodding heads back at him. Ben took another deep breath a turned to face Ami. "Well, I guess these two won't have me to look after them anymore, so you'd better do a good job looking after them for me."

Ami smiled, tears leaking out of her own eyes. "I'll do my best."

Ben smiled back, reaching over to squeeze her hand with his good one. "I know it's a tall order. Don't worry." He turned to Matt. "And you. You'll help a lot of people when you grow up. Just promise you won't do something stupid like blow up the school something."

Matt tried his best to raise an eyebrow. "You're actually making me promise not to be stupid?"

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, I know, who are we kidding. Jake-"

Jake looked at Ben, tears blurring the normally rich hazel color. Out of no where, he would the words coming to him. "This is where we part, then, coz."

Jake's breath was shallow as he met Ben's gaze. "Oh."

Ben glanced quickly at Matt, who frowned as he tried to read the expression. "What is it, Ben?"

Jake opened his mouth to snap at him, but Ben cut him off. "Not forever," he said.

Three simultaneous "what?"s echoed around the room.

"I'm coming back," he said firmly, looking around at each of their faces. "This won't be the last you'll hear of me."

As both Ami and Jake looked like they were going to burst back into tears at any second, Matt responded. "But, dude…how do you know this?"

Ben picked up the shard again. "The potion," he said. "The friar can make more of it. I know some of the ingredients, and my family has the money. I'll have to live in Verona, of course. Next Lord Montague and all that, and I am pretty fond of home, but don't worry. I'll be fine. And I'll get in touch." He smiled weakly and the three unreadable faces surrounding him. "Until we meet again, then?"

There was a pause as the three of them just continued starring at me, and Ben felt as if he had said something wrong. Naturally, he asked the most obvious question in the world. "What's up with you guys?"

He let out a grunt as he was absorbed by three hugs, bad arm and all (which he could barely feel anymore, so it didn't matter). He blinked back his own tears as he tried to hug them back.

"Till we meet again," Jake answered, patting Ben on the back once and then pulling away.

"BFFs," Matt added, doing the same. Ami followed.

Ben looked at the blond, confused. "What?"

Matt's mouth jumped to its usual teasing smirk for a second as he answered. "Abbreviation, Ben. Best Friends Forever."

"Ah," he said, "sì."

All three of them looked at him, but Ben, paying no noticed, leaned back instead and made himself comfortable. "Mi passa il mio zaino, vero?" he asked, gesturing to his bags. Jake and Matt exchanged a look, but Ami reached over and dragged the handles of the largest one over so Ben could hold it. "Grazie," he murmured, pull the bag up next to him, in the space between him and Jake. His vision seemed to be growing dimmer. "Addio, amici miei," he said as firmly as he could, closing his eyes. Around him, he could hear strange nonsense syllables…that must be one of the potion's effects…and then finally, he could hear nothing.

Nothing but his own breath whistling away.

* * *

"What was he saying? Was that Spanish?"

"No," Matt answered, shaking his head. "Not Spanish."

"I think it was Italian," Ami answered, watching Ben as his chest rose up and down. With his arm tucked into his chest like that, you couldn't see the injury, so…he could've been sleeping. "I've had to sing songs in Italian at school."

"Why was he speaking Italian?" Matt asked, also observing his friend. "Yeah, I know he lives in Italy, but he never has before."

Jake shrugged, willing himself to keep focusing on Ben's face and not the blood –purple blood- slowly staining his shirt. "I guess a second dose of whatever it was reverses the effects."

"How did he know he was going to get it today, though?" Matt asked, wonderingly. "He always knew he was leaving today. How did he know?"

Ami shrugged. "Maybe he really does have physic powers. Today was his last day of school, officially, as an exchange student."

Jake froze. "Oh, crap. He has a plane to catch tomorrow. He was supposed to be there. Now he's passed out on the floor. What are we going to tell Mom and Dad?"

Matt shrugged. "Who cares?"

"Who cares?" Jake shouted back. "I care, you stupid-"

"Jake," Ami interrupted. "Calm down. There'll probably be some excuse. After all, if he came here with this exchange kid thing already set up, maybe…maybe everyone will just forget about him."

Both boys looked up at the same time. "Forget?" Jake echoed, feeling like his throat was constricting.

Ami looked away sadly. "Yeah, I bet. I mean…how else would this be explained…he won't….wait." She snapped her head up so fast her neck cracked. "He won't die, will he?"

"What?" Matt yelped.

"No way!" Jake shouted, almost jumping to his feet. He took a few deep breaths to calm down. "No, he's not going to die. That would mean calling his family and all that…no, Ami, I think you're right. People will just…"

Matt's eyes widened. "I don't wanna forget about him either!"

Ami bit her lip as the feeling of tears slowly came back. "Jake," she called out slowly, "I'm scared."

Jake took a deep breath. "Don't be. We won't forget him."

Matt and Ami both gave him looks of…well, Jake had seen so many emotions in the last half hour, he didn't even know what to call it anymore. Sadness mixed with fear and confusion and is-he-going-crazy and how-does-he-know along with the ever present this-can't-be-happening. "Don't be scared," he repeated, growing more confident as he spoke. "We just have to trust Ben. We'll remember him. Just trust him."

There was a pause and Ami still looked doubtful, but Matt slowly nodded his head. "You're worse than crazy, Jake. You're a raving lunatic. You know what? We're all crazy. Why not? Why not just put us all in the mental…oh, no. Does this mean I'll the pictures I took of us were for nothing?"

They all laughed- for a second, just forgot about everything and laughed. "Yeah, I bet, Matt," Jake answered him, grinning. "Ben will just fade out of those pictures. Just like in the movies."

Matt smiled back ruefully. "That's a shame. Now there'll be only one good-looking one in them."

Jake chuckled back, turning to look back at Ben. "Best try to remember what he looks like the old fashioned way, then."

He was medium height, on the skinny side with long legs.  
He had an oval face and a square jaw. His skin, although paler from his winter in America, was still several shades more tan that any of the other kids. He had the smallest brushing of freckles on his cheekbones, long eyelashes, and a crown of medium brown curls adorning his forehead. His dark lips were slightly open, revealing teeth that were whiter than they should have been. As if he could sense their gazes, Ben's face twitched a little in his sleep, before falling back into complete unconsciousness.

And then it disappeared.


	29. Shining Spirits

A/N: Final Chapter! Yes, there will probably be an epilogue, don't you worry. I hope this answers everyone's questions. Thank you to all my wonderful readers- review and say what you thought, if you like.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Romeo and Juliet. _

_

* * *

_

The first thing he sensed was the sun beating down on his face. Benvolio smiled in his near sleep, brain slowly acknowledging the fact that this was the first time such a thing had happened in a few months, since about October. After that, it was too cold in New York for the sun to reach that full affect.

Eyes still closed, he stretched, thankful that there was no alarm clock nearby to bring him more abruptly out of his stupor. His clothes weren't like his pajamas. They were scratchier, maybe, longer. When he reached up a hand to push his hair out of his face, he encountered a cap resting on top of his head. That was funny- it wasn't a baseball cap or the thick one Mrs. Lapet had given him for the winter. In fact, it reminded him of the caps he and all the other males wore in…

Verona.

Benvolio sat bolt upright, squinting in the bright sunlight. He was lying down on a grassy hill, no snow in sight, which was a blessing. Gone were his American cloths and things. Instead he was back in his usual Verona wear, from rough leather shoes to the long sleeves on his arms. Next to him was a rucksack. Opening it up, he looked through it, noting the contents inside: a traveling cloak, more clothes, some slightly warmer, some dried meat, bread and cheese, a small amount of silver (no gold, which was odd for him). At the very, very bottom of the bag, there was a mound of paper.

_What the…_

Ben pulled out the stack curiously, vaguely surprised to see the unnatural bright whiteness of the printer paper. That wasn't going to last long here. Ben narrowed his eyes as he took in the words printed there. This wasn't anything he'd written. It was…was…

_It's that revolting play. _

Why was it following him everywhere? Shakespeare hadn't been born yet! Why! This wasn't even the whole thing. Benvolio started reading again, struggling a bit more than usual, before he figured it out; he was reading English, not Italian or Latin. They didn't speak English here anymore. It was funny how the potion worked- he'd barely noticed the changed language at the time.

No, this was in English, and only one scene from the five act play. It wasn't even that important a scene. Act I, Scene IV. The only thing about this scene was that it depicted a scene important to him. It was the last time he, Romeo, and Mercutio and really been together before they died.

Benvolio almost felt like laughing at fate's wit. He would treasure it.

He looked around him, vaguely recognizing the path. Down there, at the bottom of the hill, was Verona. If he continued traveling upward, he would find the graveyard. Benvolio grabbed the bag, threw it over his shoulder and started down towards the city, controlling his pace at a slow walk.

He fiddled with the sleeves of his tunic, wondering what had happened in his absence. The last thing remembered was passing out on his bed in back at the Mansion. It was too cool out to still be summer, so assumably six months had passed here as well. As he passed through the main entrance into the city, ending up in a plaza, he looked around. Nothing seemed different, besides from the weather. Because it was the off season, there were not as many people walking around as normal. That was funny- for the off season, the fountain should not be running so high. In the winter, it usually ran for only three hours a day, dawn, noon, and nightfall. Somewhere around three, as he guessed, it should not be-

He blinked, for the first time noticing the new gold statue in the center of the fountain. It actually had gotten built. This golden imitation Romeo was dancing with Juliet. Romeo was larger than he was in real life. His clothes are hair were neater, his face was calmer, more handsome. Juliet seemed smaller, more graceful, not that he had really known her. The golden statues were everything he could have expected: solid gold, beautifully crafted, and would stand for millennia.

He wasn't that impressed. He didn't need statues to remind him the cost of peace.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a gasp and a muted word tumbling into the cool afternoon air. "For the sake of the heavens, I be not nor have ever professed to be a _ghost,_" Benvolio snapped, whirling around to face the stunned voice. When he recognized the scruffy head, however, he found his scowl transforming into a beam.

"Balthasar!" he exclaimed, stepping forward even as the boy a year or two younger than Benvolio flinched a little. "Thou hast grown!" he continued, examining him. "Long have been the days, man. Long indeed."

"B-b-b-Benvolio?" Balthasar stammered, clutching his winter cloak tighter around himself. "Tis not possible. Thou disappeared and were not to be found on any of the corners of the earth! Thy uncle assumed the worst! Tell me, where were thee?"

Benvolio laughed at the scrambled speech and question. Hm. Should he tell them about America? No, that might make things even more complicated. "England," he decided, watching as Balthasar's mouth dropped. "I journeyed to England. For sanity reasons." He turned back to the statues. "My holiday from the waste here was necessary," he continued softly, not sure if the servant would understand. "I couldn't…"

The boy hesitated, but then nodded as if realizing that the trailed off sentence was all he was going to get. "Aye, then," Balthasar said, reaching forward to grab the bag. "Thy possessions, sir, tis my place to carry them."

Benvolio smiled again, handed over the bag, and restarted his casual walk around the city. "About my uncle. The sun has sunken in the sky. By that fallen mark, his residence should be…"

* * *

Benvolio was aware that he now acted differently from what he ever had, even before the tragedy. He could hear the people whispering of it when they thought he wasn't there. The trip must have been wondrous, they said. Just look at Master Benvolio. He smiles as easily as he breathes, and laughs again. He speaks his mind when he feels it right, now. He must have always had such wisdom, but now he acts upon it and shares. He's recovered faster than the rest of the city, and everyone would have guessed him to be the last. Where did he go? England? Who knew such a desolate place could transform such a young man?

He could see the new way his uncle and the servants treated him. With more respect. They saw him as a worthy heir to the Montague family. They recognized him as a leader from a family of noble leaders. Not just the members in his household – the Prince, too, as he had been summoned a few times in order to straighten out the mess he had caused by disappearing and reappearing suddenly. And not that he'd ever really talked to Valentine without Mercutio there, but his friend's brother seemed to look up to him too. He'd even caught some of Tybalt's old friends staring at him in the marketplace.

He'd spoken to Lord Capulet for the first time on his own, as well. It wasn't about anything important, just generally inquiries of health, daily activities, the acknowledgement that he was now Lord Capulet's nephew-in-law, and the awkward farewell.

His in-laws were the Capulets. What had he done to Romeo to make him deserve this? If there was one thing his trip to America hadn't solved, it was his inward shudder at the Capulet name. He'd have to work on that. It was now a time of peace, after all.

As soon as he'd straightened most things out at home (which took a few days- his uncle kept switching from angry to concerned to back again) he'd excused himself to go visit the church. It was a relief to see the familiar building again. He must admit, American temples were not up to scratch. He prayed for a few minutes, and then went to seek out the friar.

He search involved fifteen minutes wandering from cell to cell, not believing the empty sight that met his eyes, and then speaking a bit too rudely to the priest in his impatient. The panic started to slowly set in when he realized the inevitable.

Friar Lawrence was no longer serving the Catholic Church of Verona.

Benvolio knocked on the door of the cell closest to the one that had been Friar Lawrence's, forcing himself to wait for the response before opening the door and charging in.

The friar in the room jumped as the door slammed. Benvolio surveyed him. He was a smaller man, in around his early thirties. He looked the averaged friar, all and all. They did all mostly have the same look about them. Well, no, he took that back. This friar had honey colored hair, as opposed to the usually grey-white. He was different.

The man inside seemed to recognize him immediately. "Master Montague!" he exclaimed, trying to recover from his fright. People probably didn't just barge in all that often. "'Good e'en to thee, I…I…Pray tell, what is thy purpose? Thy color hath forsaken thee. Tis all well?"

"Friar Lawrence is gone," Benvolio choked out, trying to keep his hands from forming fists at his sides. "I had need of him."

The man gave him a small smile, immediately growing more relaxed. A person in need of comfort was something he could deal with easily. "To serve the God fearing, mine calling lies," the friar answered him. "I seek to minister."

Benvolio stopped for a moment, thinking, scared as to whether he wanted to continue the conversation for fear of hearing all of the wrong answers. He continued anyways, ignoring the fact that this man could crush his dreams with a few words. "What know thee of Friar Lawrence's craft?"

The new man looked slightly perplexed by the question. For a second Benvolio felt a bit guilty for his demanding manner –he didn't even know the friar's name, for goodness' sake- but he ignored the feeling. "Liquid remedies?" the second friar finally came out with.

"Aye," Benvolio answered, trying not to make his words come out as an impatient snarl. He forced his body to keep still as the new friar took forever to answer. Could he do it or what? For the love of-

"Aye," the man finally answered. "Far from mastery lies mine level of skill, but in this spite-"

"Thank God!" Benvolio burst out, interrupting the friar, who looked a little shocked at Benvolio speaking so, but he couldn't get a word in. "And thank thee, thank thee, I could thank thee for years! Please, come forth with the greatest urgency. Gold will not be lacking in thy trials, or in the coffers, I promise. The greatest urgency, please. The utmost importance." He stopped to draw breath, for the first time noticing the bothered expression of the friar. He probably had no idea what Benvolio was talking about.

The man was shorter than Benvolio, meaning Benvolio had to look down a little bit to make eye contact. "I hath not fallen into madness," Benvolio said clearly, trying to make his demeanor as serious as possible. "On the predawn of my journey, the thought of knowledge the good friar may have had lingered in my mind, so the lure of the friar's comfort, to speak of my cousin in his last moments, tempted me enough to make the visit to his cell to speak of it. Upon my arrival…" he trailed off, thinking of that fateful day. What next? He got the magical potion injected into his blood?

"Yes?" the younger friar prompted, looking like he was trying to be helpful.

"Friar Lawrence…bestowed upon me," Benvolio made up quickly. "This potion. It was to belittle my…my, ah…"

"Thy…?" the young friar echoed again. His echoing of words was quickly getting annoying.

Inspiration hit Benvolio like a shooting star. Quickly, he rolled up his right sleeve. "Look," he ordered, bearing his forearm where the scar was faithfully still there, leaving him with a reminder that everything that had happened in the last six months _was _real and not some insane figment of his imagination. His skin still wasn't completely recovered, after being cut open just before Christmas and having the same wound reopen a month later. His right arm had seemed to acquire a permanently red and inflamed state, and was still tender to the touch. "Friar Lawrence- he gave me a potion that agreed with my temperament. The normal one the physician uses….I have an allergy."

The younger friar nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. Sir, thou art strong, to have suffered in pain so without thy potion for as long. As in my calling, I will do all in mine powers to help."

Benvolio's face broke into a grin as he described all that he knew about the potion. When he bid the Friar Gabrielt (as he learned later) farewell, there was a new bounce in his step.

_Friends _are _forever. Verona, here I come. _


	30. Ever After

A/N: So, yeah, Epilogue. Can't believe this is finally done. Over a hundred pages on word. In this chapter, I tried to combine Benvolio getting the last of America out of his system as he prepares for basically his life as a lord in medeival Italy.

Do you want some fun facts? Here ya go. I based the year off of when Ben told Jake he was born. His fiance's first name is a play off tranquil (tranquil and benevolent!). Her last name roughly translates to "fast time" which I though would be good because Ben's moving forward with his life. And the 2ndish to last paragraph is a reference to the chapter Ben's dream.

Review and enjoy!

* * *

After a whole summer had passed and Benvolio still insisted on obtaining the right potion, Friar Gabrielt must have known his story was not all that it seemed, but he did not complain (perhaps because of the generous donations the church was receiving from the Montagues).

It was two years after that summer that the friar made his small delivery- an amount of potion that barely would have filled his palm, but the potion just the same. Benvolio-now nineteen- was overjoyed. He would have taken it right then and there if not for the circumstances, but fortunately, a letter seemed to work with the potion the same way the human body did, as far as disappearing went. He at least hoped it ended up in his friend's possession.

_August 1, 1326_

_Dear Jake and Matt,_

_So letters have never really been a strong point of mine. My past tutors have told me that my written communication needs work. And that I need to stop breaking good quills. Among other things. Well, anyways /\\/\/\/]/\[ sorry, that was another quill. As I was saying, this probably may come out worse that usual, because I'm a bit jittery. Nervous, maybe. I don't know why. It's not a big deal. Remember when I was the calm one? I guess its Tana's fault. _

_Sorry. You don't know who she is yes. I should have told you before I mentioned her. I wish I still had erasers. You guys still use pencils, don't you? What I wouldn't do for one of those. Of course, I could use that stuff that's a little bit like your chalk, but it would rub off and what a shame would it be if all you got was a blank piece of parchment, I mean, if this works. But things always work out, don't they? They do? I just need to spit this out already. (By the way, I've used idioms like that back here and everyone just looks at me funny. Three musketeers and all that don't exist yet.)_

_I'm getting married. _

_Not tomorrow, no, I still have time. The ceremony's the day after. There's just so many things to get ready, with all the celebrations and that, and if the dowry price is changed one more time I may just hang myself, and this is the first time I've been alone in days, and people are just constantly talking at me. And I can't even have a bachelor party because that just isn't done yet. Hmm. Maybe I should start a tradition. If I had enough people to come to a party who wouldn't think I was crazy. Never mind that. _

_Anyways, I'm getting married. Her name is Tanaquille Felicetemp. Her family is from Salerno- its south of Verona- a merchant family. She is small, with dark hair and green eyes like American grass. I've told her about my adventures in America, except for the fact that it was America and the future. I told everyone I traveled to England. She knows about you two…roughly…I sort of named you Matteo and Jacob. And described you as a little less insane. She told me I should go back and visit you one day, which should please you. I told her one day, maybe, if I could ever find you again. She thought snow sounded fun. Can you imagine? I'm rather enjoying the warm weather. You don't know how much I haven't missed snow. _

_Anyways, so yes, I'm getting married. I gave her a ring and everything. Of course, in Verona, men don't wear wedding rings, but I might have one made anyways, just so I can have one. And I'm a bit jumpy. But it's no big deal. No big deal, right? Just one of the most important moments of your life. I wish you guys could be here. As of now, Valentine is my best man. You remember, Mercutio's younger brother? He's only sixteen, but he's wise for his age. Anyways, it's good for the families, seeing as we're both heirs for the titles and all that-yeah, Valentine's supposed to be Prince after Escalus dies. Isn't that funny? Twas supposed to be Paris, but, you know, and with Mercutio, and all…so Valentine's the next male of age…_

_So, in other news, Uncle's doing well. I shouldn't have to deal with being head of the family for a few more years yet, and, I'm nervous about my weddings and the Capulets are moving out of Verona. I think that's it, really. Oh, I entered a fencing tournament. Lost horribly a couple of rounds in. It reminded me how much I dislike fighting. _

_Sorry if I left anything out. I can hardly imagine you two reading this. Your actions always were unpredictable. Just, well, write me back…if you can…sorry it's been so long… I hope the potion works…I'll try to visit you as soon as I can. How's college? On the slight chance that you graduated high school, that is. Yes, I'm joking. It feels like forever and no time at all since I've last seen you. Forever, you know, because you're not here, but like nothing, because, well, I know you're there. And I talk to you. In my head. Sometimes, even though I know you can't hear me. Because it helps when I pretend you can. You are the future after all. _

_Sincerely, _

_Benvolio Montague _

_P.S. Wish Ami good luck with senior year for me. Hope to see you soon._

It wasn't hard to send, considering the concept of time travel and all. He just let a few drops of potion fall onto the letter, put the letter into an envelope, and watched as it disappeared.

Ben smiled to himself as he thought of all the dramatic scenarios in which the letter to arrive. Hopefully nothing happened to it. It would be just like his friends to accidently throw an envelope into a bowl of ice cream or something…

"Benvolio, sir!"

Benvolio jumped and dropped the vial of potion as Balthasar raced through the door and started babbling at top speed. "The all of Verona has been turned on its side by thy uncle's search for thee, sir…" Benvolio didn't hear the rest and he looked at the mess he'd made.

_By the devil._

He clenched his fists as he realized he'd broken the vial and it was spreading over his only memento of the future that wasn't his memories, or the scar. The one scene of that one play that had captured him, Mercutio, and Romeo together before all the dying had started. The last bit of potion he had was seeping through the worn packet of paper that, against his better judgment, he'd started getting attached to. It seemed as though nothing could last in his life.

_Whoever gets that better keep it safe. _

Ben sighed and resigned himself to the fact that the papers where disappearing before his eyes- not even a sudden vanishing, as usual. They were slowly fading out of existence, as invisibility was suddenly spreading over it. Who knew what the potion did anymore? For all he knew, this paper could actually end up in England.

"If I may, sir, what is it that captures thy gaze?"

Benvolio jumped and whirled around quickly. He'd forgotten all about Balthasar. "Nothing," he croaked out quickly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "Nothing," he repeated. "Troubling thoughts, tis all."

Balthasar smiled knowingly. "Sir, tis not my place, but thy wedding is to be as perfect as if the angels set it."

Benvolio smiled half-heartedly back. "Thou hath named my hope."

The servant nodded and gestured to the door. "Ah, sir, thy uncle is searching for thee. Thou might find best to convene soon."

"Aye," Benvolio spoke absently mindedly. "Grant me a minute more."

Balthasar nodded and bowed. "Aye, sir," he answered, backing out of the room.

He looked once more at the spot where the letter had lain, wondering still if he should have added that the friar said more of the potion wouldn't be available for years to come, as he had to pay for supplies to be imported from the Orient somewhere. Did this make him a liar? Should he just have sent the consequences to blazes and taken the potion anyways?

Of course not. His wedding was in two days, and he wasn't sure how long the potion's potency would last.

_Oh, no. The wedding. Tana. _Benvolio glanced quickly out the window, measuring the position of the sun. _No wonder Uncle was looking for me. I'm late for the meeting with the bishop!_

Benvolio hurriedly shoved his ink and quill to the back of the desk, glanced everything over once more to double check that everything was in place, and started hurrying out the door and down the halls of Montague mansion. This was it, the final approval with both the church and Tana's family before the actual ceremony. He was getting married to the woman he loved. He was getting _married_!

_And now my friends know. _

There was something spectacular about having best friends that you knew better than anyone. Even though they were gone, you would always have a part of you embedded with their voice, so you'd never really be alone.

Benvolio never felt alone again. The morning of his wedding, when he woke up, he even could have sworn that he'd seen Romeo and Mercutio for a second.

Wishful thinking. Like they could attend a wedding.

And he never looked back again.


End file.
